The Way Back
by BringingGeekyBack
Summary: A/U Paily - An unexpected phone call forces Emily to revisit her past.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N This was originally planned to be a one-shot that instead grew into a short fic. I have actually finished the story so you can expect regular updates. Hope you enjoy :) **

"Hello?" Emily asked, unsure. It was a Rosewood area code, but she didn't recognize the number.

"Emily?" asked the mysterious female voice in her ear.

"Um." She hesitated a brief second, not wanting to confirm her identity.

"It's Anne McCullers," the woman said. "Paige's mother," she clarified unnecessarily.

"Of course," Emily said, only slightly less confused now than she'd been when she saw the number flash across her screen. "Hi, Mrs. McCullers."

"I'm sorry for calling so early and unexpectedly. I got your number from your mother," she began explaining. Emily didn't know Mrs. McCullers had her mother's number. Her mom moved to Texas almost immediately after she graduated from high school.

"Mrs. McCullers," Emily interrupted. "Is everything okay? Is Paige okay?" She had no idea why her former teammate/classmate's mom was calling her on a September Saturday morning from the other side of the country. Paige had to be the reason, though it still didn't make any sense to Emily since she and Paige hadn't spoken in years.

"Well, that's the thing," the woman on the phone said. "We got a call from Paige's roommate early this morning. Early for us, even. She said that Paige was in a car accident last night-"

"Oh my God!" Emily exclaimed, getting her roommate's attention. "Is she okay?"

"We were told that she's fine. She's not in any danger. Spencer mentioned she hurt her foot and broke her collarbone but, other than some minor cuts and bruises, she's fine."

Emily breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn't even realized she'd been holding her breath. "Thank God she's okay. I-I-I mean, thank God it wasn't worse," she stuttered.

"Yes," Mrs. McCullers said. "Spencer said the car is totaled, but our baby is okay."

"I'm glad," Emily said, feeling the conversation was about to take an awkward turn. Much as she appreciated hearing firsthand that Paige was in an accident and was okay, she was still unsure why Paige's mom would call her.

"Look, Emily," Paige's mom began, hesitantly, "I know this is a big ask, and I know you and Paige didn't end as the best of friends," she continued, making Emily's stomach start to churn, "but I was wondering, if you had the time… I know it's a bit of a drive, but I was hoping you'd go see her-see that she's actually okay." Emily could feel the beating of her heart. This wasn't good. "It's not that we don't trust Spencer, but we don't know her that well, and we want to make sure that Paige is really okay. And you know Paige well enough to know that she isn't going to give us the whole picture. It would just make us feel better knowing you had seen her."

It was a big ask. Emily had just returned from a run and was about to jump in the shower before meeting some teammates for brunch and beginning that sociology paper she'd neglected all week. "Sure," she said anyway, knowing that she wouldn't have ever said no.

"Oh thank God," Paige's mom said, audibly relieved. "You don't know how much that means to Nick and me."

"It's not a problem. I'm glad you called me," Emily said, with a frightening amount of honesty. "I'll just need know where to find her."

"Of course. Spencer called from the hospital, but she said Paige would likely be discharged late morning or early afternoon. So, depending on when you're able to get there, they might already be home."

After Mrs. McCullers provided her with her phone number, the hospital information and Paige's address, along with Paige's and this girl Spencer's numbers, she thanked Emily again, insisting she'd only reached out to her because she was Paige's closest link to home and she didn't know what else she could do besides catching the next flight to the Bay Area. Emily assured her that wouldn't be necessary and ended the call with the promise of being in touch soon.

When she hung up the phone her roommate asked her," Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," she answered, distracted. "I just need to get to Palo Alto as soon as I can," she said, walking to the bathroom to take a now overdue shower, providing no further information.

* * *

><p>Emily met Paige the summer before the start of their ninth grade year at a swim camp for students interested in the Rosewood High School swim team. Emily's family had just moved to the idyllic Pennsylvania town because the swim program was so strong and to give Emily a chance to settle down somewhere for high school, even if it meant she'd only see her father during holidays and extended furloughs. He was a Colonel in the Army, and his career had taken the family all over the US, as well as five years in Germany just after Emily was born.<p>

Moving around so much as a child-she'd lived in five states and two countries by the time she entered high school-Emily was used to keeping to herself. She'd heard herself described as shy, which wasn't exactly true; she just didn't see the point of making connections she knew may be ripped from her in a year's time. But her parents had promised that no matter where her dad was stationed, Rosewood would be her address for at least four years.

Emily hadn't had a chance to set up her room before she found herself on a bus to State College where the Rosewood High swim newbies and veteran members of the swim team would be holding their swim camp. She sat by herself near the front of the bus, deciding whether or not to put her earbuds in and let the familiarity of her music calm her down. Even though she wasn't the only new student to Rosewood High School, the coach told her parents that Emily would be the only one who was new to Rosewood altogether. These girls spent the year, when it wasn't swim season, swimming together for the Rosewood Swim Club. Emily was used to being the new kid, but being thrown with these girls for a two-week long camp without getting to know them first made Emily feel even more like a fish out of water than she had before.

The coach glanced at her watch and huffed at bit before telling the driver to wait a few more minutes. Then, turning to the girls on the bus, she said: "We'll be leaving in a few minutes, but while we're waiting, I want to introduce you to Emily Fields," she said pointing to her, which wasn't necessary since all the other girls had been whispering about her since she'd arrived. "She's going into ninth grade and has just moved to Rosewood from Washington, and she will be a valuable member to our team, so please introduce yourselves when you have a chance." Emily looked at the other girls and the bus knowing her cheeks were flushed and gave an awkward wave. Coach Fulton's introduction wasn't very inspired or helpful for her, but at least the other girls knew a bit about her now. One girl even yelled "Hi, Emily" from the back of the bus, making her teammates giggle.

"It'll be a few hours until we arrive, so I'm going to let you decide your room assignments, so that we're sorted before we get to Penn State. There will be two girls per room, and we have an even number of girls, so this shouldn't be too difficult. I'll come around soon, so be ready-"

At that moment a lanky brunette ran onto the bus. "Sorry, Coach," she said sheepishly without offering more of an explanation.

"Have a seat, Paige," Coach Fulton replied and then nodded to the driver who took the cue and started pulling out of the high school parking lot.

The tardy girl decided to sit in the closest available seat rather than risk another reprimand, one seat back and across the aisle from Emily.

"As I was saying," the coach continued, "Seniors, you get priority, so I'll see you first. The rest of you be ready," she said as she moved to the back of the bus.

Emily supposed it didn't matter who she roomed with. Everyone here was a stranger, and, if she'd learned anything from the constant moving around, it was that kids rarely made it easy at first.

Coach Fulton approached the two remaining swimmers but stopped to speak to Paige, sitting in the seat in front of the girl and directly across from Emily. Emily could hear everything that was said.

"We were late leaving because you didn't get to school on time," the coach said.

"I know. I'm sorry. My dad-"

"I don't need an excuse, Paige. I just need you to be on time." Paige nodded but otherwise remained quiet. "I know high school is going to be an adjustment, but I expect great things from you this year," their coach continued. "I'm looking forward to working with you. But you were late, and tardiness is something I can't allow, so come see me after dinner. Be ready to run."

"Okay. Thanks, Coach," Paige said, avoiding Fulton's eyes.

"Oh, and you'll be rooming with Emily at camp," their Coach said, pointing towards Emily, who'd turned towards Paige when she'd heard her name. "Emily, this is Paige." She stood up and walked to the front-most bench and where she starting jotting notes on a pad of paper. When she looked back at Paige, the girl was staring at her with a neutral expression.

"Watch out for her, new girl," Emily heard someone behind her say, breaking the brief starring standoff she and Paige were in.

Emily turned to find the voice and saw a beautiful dark-skinned girl smirking at her, while the girls near her tried, failingly, to quell their laughter. "Huh?" she asked.

"A word of friendly advice," she offered. "Sleep with an eye open. You wouldn't want to wake up to McCullers molesting you in your sleep, fucking dyke," she finished, her friends succumbing to laughter.

When Emily turned back to her roommate, Paige had turned her head to look out the window and remained silent for the duration of the ride.

Camp was pretty much what Emily had expected and she finished each day craving for the comfort of her dorm-room bed. She'd impressed her new coach and teammates by proving she could swim. Even as a freshman, Emily promised to be a valuable addition to the Sharks' team. She'd even managed to make some friends, which wasn't surprising since Emily had often been described as adaptable and likeable, but it was nice to know she wouldn't be panicking to find a place to eat her lunch when school started.

She'd also learned a lot about her roommate, Paige, even though she mostly kept to herself and barely looked at Emily the entire fortnight of camp.

When they'd found their shared room, Emily attempted to address the awkwardness their teammates tried to stir up on the bus. "Look," she began. "I'm sorry about what those girls said on the bus-"

"Don't," Paige said forcibly. "I'm not gay, so you don't have to worry about anything."

"I-I wasn't," Emily said.

"Shana's just a bitch who likes to torment me because she can't beat me in the water," she explained.

"Well, I was gonna say that it wouldn't have mattered. If you were gay, I mean. It wouldn't have weirded me out," Emily insisted.

"Good to know, I guess. But it's not gonna be an issue," she said, throwing some stuff into a small bag before she stalked off and disappeared until bedtime.

Paige and Emily didn't become friends that week, that didn't happen until school started, but even though they barely spoke, Emily learned a few important things about her loner teammate.

First, Paige was a phenomenal swimmer. When Coach Fulton said she expected great things from her this season, she didn't think she meant that Paige would be expected to compensate where the team was otherwise weak. Even her weakest stroke, the breaststroke, was only a fraction of a second off from the senior who held the best time for the event for the last couple of years. There were rumours that Paige had already been invited to US Swimming training camps and may one day be an Olympian.

Second, Paige did everything by herself. Emily wasn't yet sure if it was driven by something innate or if it was a defense mechanism from all the teasing and snide remarks she received regularly from the swim team when Coach Fulton wasn't around. Whatever the reason, Paige kept to herself. She even waited to shower until everyone else was done, which, if Emily had to guess, was directly related to the rumours that were spread about her.

Third, Emily had gathered that Paige's father was a giant asshole, which was almost funny since she also learned he was the lead pastor at Rosewood's largest evangelical church. But after the teasing she endured from her supposed homosexuality, taunts about disappointing her father came a close second.

Fourth, Paige didn't go out of her way to be liked, but Emily didn't blame her entirely. Emily was still trying to understand how far back Paige's isolation went, but even with Emily, who wasn't at all connected to the baggage the other team carried when it came to their star swimmer, Paige rebuffed all attempts at kindness she made, so Emily stopped trying to be nice. She didn't join in the bullying that she witnessed daily, but she stopped making an effort to be Paige's friend.

* * *

><p>Emily called ahead and found out that while Paige hadn't been released from the hospital, and as she was in emergency, she wouldn't get to see her there anyway-not without Paige's expressed permission, and there wasn't really a way to get that at this point, and, even if she could get it, Paige had no reason to give it. So she decided to mull around and eat brunch with her friends as planned and then drive down to Palo Alto.<p>

When she finished showering and readying herself for her day, she plopped herself onto the living room sofa, where her roommate, Samantha, was watching an infomercial on kitchen knives.

"Why are you watching this?" she asked. Sam never cooked anything that needed more than a butter knife.

"No idea. But now I'm sort of hooked." She glanced over to Emily, who was gnawing on skin around her fingernail, a nervous habit. "I thought you were in a rush to get to Palo Alto?"

"I am," Emily replied simply, honestly. "But I need to wait for a while."

"Is Paige McCullers alright?" Sam asked cautiously.

Emily's head snapped towards her roommate, her brows scrunched together in confusion. "Who said this was about Paige McCullers?" she asked defensively.

It took all of Sam's strength not to roll her eyes at her oblivious roommate. "You didn't, but the phone called from a 'Mrs. McCullers,' followed by a mysterious urgency to get to Palo Alto... It wasn't too hard to figure out. Plus, you actually said 'Paige' to the phone." When Emily didn't respond, Sam added: "She's the best swimmer in the conference and you went to high school with her. It doesn't seem weird her mom would call you. So I'm asking again: is Paige okay?"

Emily had hoped to avoid talking about this until she had the chance to see Paige with her own eyes. She knew it would eventually be common knowledge, but she didn't feel it was her place to announce it. "She was in a car accident," she said reluctantly.

"Shit, is she okay?" Sam asked thoughtfully.

"I think so. I mean, her mom mentioned a couple of injuries, but it sounds like they're relatively minor."

"This may change the entire swim season," Sam said a lot less thoughtfully.

Emily turned back Sam quickly. "I really couldn't care less about the swim season right now, Sam," she said seriously. "I just found out that a girl I grew up with was in a potentially career-altering car accident and all you can think about is how it might positively change your swim season." Emily stood, shaking her head. Maybe she wouldn't go for brunch after all.

"Em," Sam said, scrambling to get her roommate's attention. "I'm sorry. That was really insensitive of me." Emily looked back to Sam and saw the sincerity in your eyes. "I didn't know you and McCullers were that close, though. You two barely even look at each other at meets. The only reason I knew you even knew her is because Erica noticed you went to the same high school. Honestly, Em, I wouldn't have said anything had I thought she was anything more than just our rival's star swimmer."

Emily took a deep breath and grabbed the back of the couch. "Once upon a time she was my best friend," she admitted quietly.

Sam looked incredulous. "Emily, we've known each other for two years and I'm only finding out about this now?"

"Yeah, well," Emily said, "we haven't spoken since high school, so it didn't seem relevant."

Sam looked at Emily. She looked really shaken up. "Are you okay?" she asked. "Didn't her mom tell you she wasn't in any danger?"

"Yeah, I suppose," she replied, taking a deep breath. "I'll feel better when I can see her."

"Yeah." Sam sat quietly for a moment, while Emily decided to sit back down on the sofa next to her. "So you and Paige McCullers were once best friends." It wasn't a question; she was still trying to make sense of it all.

"Yeah," Emily breathed.

"So, uh, what happened?" her roommate asked, curiosity winning out over tact.

Emily looked over at her green-eyed, sun-kissed teammate and roommate. She looked almost adolescent waiting to hear the salacious gossip of a friendship gone bad, ante raised when they received scholarships to rival schools in the same conference. Emily gave a small laugh and shook her head before dipping her head down and taking a deep breath. "It's complicated," she said, avoiding all eye contact with her current best friend.

She knew Sam was staring at her, trying to figure out the whole story Emily wasn't willing to share. Subconsciously, Emily began to chew on her finger again, before excusing herself to pour a cup of coffee.

"Best friends?" Sam asked again. What Sam was thinking was best friends-who-can't-even-look-at-each other, but she didn't say that out loud. Suddenly, as if putting all the pieces together in her head, Sam shrieked, "No!"

"Keep your voice down, Sam, our neighbours may still be sleeping," she said, returning with her drink, but otherwise ignoring her roommate.

"You and Paige?" Sam tried a little more directly.

"Well, technically no," Emily offered, blushing slightly and sipping her coffee.

"Technically, Em?" Sam was mostly amused by Emily's obscurity on this information. "That's all you're giving me? We've known each other for two years and this is the first I'm hearing about this?"

"It was a long time ago," she replied, shrugging her shoulders.

"You or her?" Sam asked cryptically, knowingly.

Emily didn't say anything. Instead, she brought her mug to her mouth, cocked her head slightly to the side and winked at Sam, knowing Sam would be able to decipher meaning from the gesture, before she took another sip of her coffee.

"OH MY GOD!" Sam said, looking shell-shocked herself. "Okay," she said after she recovered, "this all makes sense to me now."

"What does?

"It's just, now I understand why Berkeley's hottest lesbian has never had a relationship that's lasted more than a month."

"That's not-" Emily stopped speaking when Sam looked at her with a don't-try-to-bullshit-me-right-now look.

"I mean, I always thought it was weird, once I knew you'd gone to school with her, that you never talked about her after our meets, but I never suspected this. Shit," Sam finished.

Emily just sat quietly, not daring to look at Samantha. The knife infomercial had turned into an all-in-one fitness machine infomercial since she's finished her shower.

"That's not what you're wearing, is it?" Sam asked, forcing Emily to look down at her outfit of faded blue jeans and a vintage-looking gray Phillies t-shirt.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" she asked.

"Emily."

"What?"

"You're about to see her, like, actually have to look at her and talk to her, for the first time in years," she prodded.

"I'm not trying to impress her, Sam," she insisted. "High school was a long time ago."

"Uh-huh. Sure. If you say so."

"I'm not! I'm going because her mom called me and asked me to go for her."

"You know, I've never really thought about it before, but Paige McCullers is really hot," Sam said, ignoring Emily's pleas.

"You're not even gay, Sam."

"No, that's true," Sam agreed, "but I didn't hear you deny what I just said."

"Ugh!" Emily growled as she stood and took her mug to the sink before going back to her room.

"Change your clothes while you're in there," Emily heard Sam yell after she slammed her door shut.

* * *

><p>She didn't even realize she was doing it. She didn't realize, walking through the halls at Rosewood High School on that first day, searching for her locker, finding her classrooms, looking at her new classmates, that she was actually looking for Paige. Swim camp ended the three weeks prior the start of the school year and Emily hadn't seen her since. She was busy trying making Rosewood her home: fixing her bedroom, biking around town, shopping for school supplies and spending as much time with her father as possible before he went to Texas, where he was now stationed. She didn't even see her at church, since Emily and her parents were "non-practicing Catholics," who preferred lazy Sunday brunches to mass and wouldn't be caught dead in an evangelical church.<p>

But Emily couldn't stop thinking about her enigmatic teammate-how expertly she dove off the starting block, how seamlessly she moved through the water, how an always unflattering one-piece seemed to find purpose on Paige's lithe body, how she slouched just a little bit when the team gathered to hear Coach Fulton's instructions. These images usually surfaced at night, after she'd turned off the lights, before her body surrendered to sleep, the ones she tried to rationalize in the morning.

But there were other things about Paige that stood out, too. These came to her during the day-how she bravely ignored the constant bullying she endured, how much confidence she had in her ability, how when Emily came back to the room some nights to see her already in bed reading Harry Potter, absently playing with her shoulder-length, auburn hair, how it sounded when she laughed at something in the book, and how she forgot that she wasn't speaking to Emily when she told her, with a rare smile on her face, "My dad's forbidden me from reading these, but my mom sneaks them into the house for me," before she remembered and closed her book and turned off the light. But there was that smile.

Emily couldn't explain why she was so drawn to this girl who had made it clear she didn't want to be friends. But Emily knew the moment she saw her step onto the bus that she was brought to Rosewood to meet this girl. She kept that thought to herself.

She didn't see her all morning, and Paige's name wasn't on the register of any of her classes. She didn't even see her lunch, though she did spot some of the other ninth-grade swimmers. She met some of the boys swim team, including a boy called Noel Kahn, who immediately asked her if she had a boyfriend, and when she glanced at Shana and Madison, she knew a wall was being built between her and them because Noel Kahn had flirted with her. She wasn't interested in Noel, even if he was undeniably gorgeous with perfectly coiffed black hair and vibrant green eyes. Shana and Madison could have him, but she knew, deep-down, the damage was already done. The urgency to find Paige suddenly seemed greater.

It was perhaps serendipitous that she saw her in fifth period, the period immediately following lunch, which for Emily and Paige meant Ancient History with Mr. Hill. When Emily saw her, she smiled and waved, two gestures Paige, clad in black, faded Penguins t-shirt, dark blue jeans that made her legs look impossibly long and black and white checkered Vans, returned. Emily took a closest seat available when she felt her cheeks start to burn.

Mr. Hill had other plans for Emily's seat, arranging the class alphabetically. With only a Gottesman, Jensen, Lester, London, Martin in between Emily found herself sitting right next to Paige McCullers. This arrangement provided her with another Paige smile to store away for later, this time in the form of a smirk, which carried with it an understanding that only Paige and Emily would find amusing. It was their first inside joke.

The week progressed much in the same way. Her classes were manageable and Emily was starting to feel less and less like an unknown novelty. She had discovered that Paige was taking mostly all honours classes, which is why she wasn't in any of Emily's. She still ate her lunches with the swim team, minus Paige, who she knew wouldn't have been welcomed even if she ever decided to enter the cafeteria. Noel's attention had increased, no matter how much Emily didn't encourage him. And she knew that somehow Shana and Madison blamed her for the attention. She'd learned during swim camp that they could be petty and cruel.

The only difference by the end of the week was the conversation she initiated as soon as the bell rang marking the end of fifth period.

"How come I never see you at lunch?" she asked Paige, as Paige finished zipping up her backpack.

Paige looked to Emily almost defensively before shrugging her backpack over her shoulders and starting to walk out of the classroom. "My dad has arranged that I spend my lunches in the library to limit the amount of homework I do when I get home," she explained.

"Isn't that what study hall is for?" Emily asked. Most students were granted one study period, which Emily had after history.

Paige grimaced. "My dad thinks having study hall on your transcripts tells colleges that you're not a serious student. He thinks my time would be better spent taking an academic extracurricular activity." Paige paused, squinting in the sun. "But then I convinced him it'd look better if I did something non-academic-to make me more 'well-rounded,'" she stressed using air quotes, "so I'm in drama instead of Latin, like he wanted."

Emily didn't expect that Paige would voluntarily join the Drama Club, especially for someone so closed off. "Really?" she asked in disbelief.

This earned her another laugh. "Really. All behind the scenes. I like set design and sound and lighting and stuff like-"

"Aw," a blonde girl Emily vaguely recognized from her Algebra class said, interrupting Paige. "It looks like Paige has a new girlfriend," she said tauntingly.

Emily looked between the girl, who was at least four inches shorter than both Paige and her, and Paige, who's head now faced the ground as her hands grabbed at her backpack straps instinctively. Paige's defense seemed to be to endure and ignore, but Emily wasn't Paige. She'd earned a tough skin from having to move around so much. She'd met countless girls like the one before her, and she wasn't going to let what happened with the swim team, when she didn't speak up for Paige, to happen again.

"I don't know who the fuck you are," Emily said, starring unflinchingly into the eyes of the blonde girl before, "but you need to leave her alone," she said pointing to Paige.

To her credit, the blonde girl didn't flinch either. "You're the new girl." It wasn't a question. "I'll remember this," she said before turning and walking away.

With a bit of trepidation, Emily turned her head to look at Paige. Rather than the withdraw look she expected to find, she was surprised to see Paige smirking at her. Paige, it seemed was particularly fond of the smirk.

"Who was that?" Emily asked, smiling only when she dropped her head.

"That was Alison DiLaurentis," she said mysteriously.

"Is that supposed to mean something to me?"

"No," Paige said, starting to walk again. Emily moved to walk alongside her teammate. "But I suppose I should tell you that you just committed social suicide," she said, before giving Emily her first unrestrained smile. It was a good look on her.

"Ah," Emily replied reflectively. "I guess I'm in good company then," she said with a wink.

It earned her a laugh, before Paige said, "Yeah."

Somehow they ended up in front of Emily's study hall. Paige, in a more guarded voice, said: "Of course, now she's going to tell everyone you're my girlfriend."

"I can handle it," she said confidently.

Paige, however, looked completely uncertain, but she nodded anyway and then asked, "See you on Monday?"

"Yeah. Have a nice weekend."

"You too," she said, before turning and walking away. Emily watched her retreating form before walking into Study Hall just before the starting bell rang.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you so much for reading my story. And for those who reviewed, followed and/or favourited it, I am especially grateful. I'm overwhelmed by the response. To the guest reviewers I couldn't respond to and thank personally, thanks so much for taking the time to provide feedback. I'm going to slow things down a bit since this isn't a long story, but I will be updating it about twice a week until it's over, so expect another update this weekend. I hope this provides even the smallest amount of solace after last night's Paily heartbreak. Thanks again for reading.**

Emily did, in fact, change her clothes, but not until after brunch, and not until after Sam left to go hiking with her boyfriend, and definitely not because she felt the need to impress anyone. She put on a darker pair of jeans, ones that hugged her skin in exactly the right way, a blue plaid button-up opened to reveal a heather gray tank top and grabbed her favourite cardigan for good measure—northern California was surprisingly cold.

Brunch had gone remarkably well, considering that Emily was distracted throughout and worried Sam would say something about Paige, either about the accident or that other thing, but Sam kept her mouth shut, much to Emily's relief. Brunch also helped to make time move a little bit faster, and Emily made it back home just after eleven o'clock. With at least an hour's drive ahead of her—Bay Area traffic could be a cruel mistress—Emily hoped she'd waited long enough because she was antsy to see Paige.

Before heading out, she called the hospital one more time, and when they wouldn't confirm if Paige had been released or not, she called Mrs. McCullers to see if she could find out from either her daughter or the roommate. Emily didn't want Paige to know that she knew yet, but regardless of Paige's whereabouts, Emily was leaving as soon as possible. She could always camp out at a Starbucks to work on her paper if she needed to kill more time.

At twelve fifteen, Paige's mom phoned Emily back to confirm that Paige was now at home. Emily thanked her and told her she was about twenty minutes from the city and promised to be in touch later that day.

"Thanks again for doing this," Mrs. McCullers said again.

"You don't need to thank me," Emily insisted.

"I think I do."

"Well, I'm happy to help. I want to make sure Paige is okay, too," Emily admitted.

Mrs. McCullers seemed to hesitate for a moment before she said, "We've missed you, Emily. Nick and I, we follow your performances, too, you know. We're so proud of what you've been able to accomplish in the pool."

"Thanks, Mrs. McCullers, that's really nice to hear." She meant it too.

They hung up and Emily, who'd already programmed the address to the hospital and Paige's apartment into her GPS, nervously gripped the steering wheel. She wanted to see Paige. She really did. She'd wanted to see her or call her many times since they'd both moved to California. And it wasn't as if she wasn't given plenty of opportunities, as they were thrown together a few times a year, but Emily had somehow avoided them all, and Paige never took the initiative either. Emily briefly wondered if she was making a huge mistake in going to see Paige now, after her accident, when she hadn't really seen her in years, showing up unannounced on her doorstep, but she wasn't turning back now.

Thirty minutes after the call with Paige's mom, Emily stood in front of a call box, looking up the code for Paige's apartment when she was spared having to reveal herself over the phone by a guy exiting the locked gate with a bicycle in tow. She slipped inside and found the correct door.

She took a calming breath to try to quell the beating she felt in her chest before doing maybe the hardest thing she'd ever had to do in her life. She knocked on the door—three strong knocks—and waited, listening for the sound of movement behind the door.

She heard the deadbolt turn before the door opened ajar, stopped by the chain that was latched to the wall. A familiar-looking girl stood eyeing her from the small space allowed by the chain. "May I help you?" she asked suspiciously.

"Hi," Emily said, invoking her friendliest voice. "I'm here to see Paige."

The girl stared at her, making Emily shift uncomfortably under her scrutinizing gaze. "Paige isn't feeling well, but I can tell her you dropped by," she said. "What did you say your name was?"

"Oh, um, I didn't. Sorry. Uh, my name is Emily." Something clicked with the girl behind the door when Emily revealed her name.

"You're Emily Fields," the girl—Spencer, she assumed—said.

Emily didn't quite know what to make of the fact that this girl seemed to know who she was, but perhaps Mrs. McCullers had called ahead. It didn't really matter how she knew, though, so she replied, simply, "I am."

"Well, like I said," the girl continued, "now's not a good time. I'll let her know you stopped by."

As she was about to close the door, Emily shouted, "Wait!" The girl widened the gap again. "I know Paige is probably not up for visitors," Emily said with urgency. "I know she just got home from the hospital and that she was in a car accident last night. I'm here because her mom called me to ask me to come see her." The girl raised an eyebrow. "I'm here because I need to know that she's okay," she added truthfully.

The girl stared at her silently for a moment and then shut the door. Emily waited a second, not knowing if she'd been rudely dismissed when she heard a noise from behind the door before it opened fully this time. And the girl, one Spencer Hastings, a swimmer she recognized from the Stanford team, wearing, hilariously, a gray t-shirt that said "Stanford Quidditch" across her chest, extended her arm to let Emily into the room.

Paige wasn't in the living room when Emily stepped inside, but she heard a toilet flush and understood why. Spencer didn't invite her to sit, so Emily, who'd stopped at a Starbucks along the way, now stood awkwardly with a tray of drinks in the middle of the living room.

"Spence!" she heard Paige's still-familiar voice yell. "A little help here, please."

Spencer turned and began walking towards the voice. "Um, Paige," she said, "you have a visitor." The last part of the last word trailed off to the point Emily wasn't sure if she actually finished it. Because in that moment, Paige had entered the room, hobbling awkwardly on one crutch, and looked directly into Emily's eyes.

"Emily," she said quietly.

"Hi," Emily breathed back just as quietly, mesmerized that Paige was actually standing only a few feet away and looking just as inherently beautiful as Emily remembered. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail with a few loose strands falling into her makeup-free face. She wore a black tank top blocked partially by a navy-blue sling, which held her arm in place, and gray sweatpants bunched up to her knee on the side that sported the boot. Emily thought she looked flawless.

Spencer moved to help Paige onto the short end of the sectional in the middle of the room, so Paige was able to elevate her boot-covered foot while also facing the TV, which was mounted on the wall. Emily still hadn't moved. She was busy staring at Paige, relieved to see that she was, relatively speaking, alright.

"I brought coffee," Emily finally said once Paige was settled on the couch, her gaze returned to the surprise visitor. It was a stupid thing to say, but it was all that she could think to say. "Grande Americano, black. At least I hope that's what you still drink."

"It is," Paige said with a small smile. "Thanks."

Emily returned the smile, relieved once more that Paige had not only not kicked her out but had also graciously accepted the proffered cup of coffee. "And, Spencer, right?"

Spencer cocked her eyebrow again and then nodded her head. "Yeah, hi," she said, smiling cheekily. "We've actually met before."

"I remember," Emily said, returning the smile. "But next time, it'll be you in second place," she finished, winking at the Stanford backstroker.

Spencer shook her head but smiled at her rival, appreciating how Emily handled her teasing. Paige laughed, too.

"Anyway," Emily said exaggeratedly, "I didn't know how you took your coffee, so I have a coffee or a plain latte. Your choice," she revealed, pulling packets of various kinds of sugar on the table and a short cup with milk for cream.

Spencer looked to Paige and nodded once, raising that eyebrow again before reaching for the coffee. "Just black is fine, thanks," she said, leaving the latte for Emily, who finally sat down on a nearby swivel reclining chair directly across from Paige and opened the lid on the latte and stirred in a packet of raw sugar.

They sat around sipping their coffee quietly, which only made each passing moment more awkward. It was Paige who broke the silence.

"I've got to say, I'm really surprised to see you, Emily. How'd you even know where I lived?"

"Your mom told me, actually. She called me a few hours ago and said you'd been in an accident. She, uh, she wanted me to check on you," Emily admitted.

"Oh," Paige said, the levity they'd reached only moments before now shattered. "You didn't have to do that. Spencer had that covered."

Emily was kicking herself for making it sound like she only came because Mrs. McCullers requested her to. And as she sat there, figuring out what to say to salvage the brief truce they'd just reached, Spencer was the first to speak.

"Since you're here, Emily, would you mind staying with Paige while I run to grab us something to eat? We haven't had a chance to eat lunch and there's not much in the fridge, and I'm not supposed to leave her alone for a few days at least."

"I thought we were ordering pizza," Paige quickly interjected.

"Yeah, we were. But that was before Emily arrived and we thought we'd be trapped here until Toby gets off of work," she explained. "Plus, I don't really want pizza, do you?"

Emily was sure something else was communicated, but it must have been spoken between the swimmers with their eyes since neither actually said anything.

"Fine," Paige said, resigned.

"Is that okay with you?" she asked, speaking to Emily. "I'll grab some groceries while I'm out. It'll take me an hour tops."

Emily looked to Paige, who was picking at a loose thread on the blanket Spencer had thrown over her after she helped her to sit. "Yeah," she finally said to Spencer. "That should be okay."

"Great," she said standing. To Paige, she said: "I'm going to Whole Foods, any special requests?" Paige shook her head but didn't say anything. "How about you, Em? You're going to need to eat something too."

The question caught Emily off guard, but she recovered quickly, and said, "You don't have to worry about me."

Spencer's eyes remained on Emily for a moment before she turned to Paige and mouthed something to her that made Paige roll her eyes. She disappeared into another room in the house and returned just as quickly with her keys, purse and cardinal-red hoodie.

"I'll be back in a bit," she said, exiting the front door and leaving Emily and Paige alone for the first time in years.

"I'm sorry about that," Paige said after another bout of silence. "Subtlety isn't Spencer's specialty."

Emily was thankful Paige was speaking to her again.

"Look, Paige," Emily said, ignoring the comment about Spencer. She had to start somewhere. "I'm sorry I implied that I came just to appease you mom."

"Don't worry about," Paige said dismissively.

"No, I'm serious," Emily insisted. She hadn't intended to have this conversation so soon. "When she said you'd been in a car accident, for a split-second I thought you were gone and it... I..." She didn't want to finish that thought. Paige's eyebrows were furrowed together. It was her confused look. Once upon a time Emily had known it well. "And then she said you were okay—relatively okay, at least—I breathed the biggest sigh of relief. I honestly didn't even know I'd stopped breathing. And then I bawled in the shower after we hung up our call. I thought I'd missed my chance, you see."

This got Paige's attention. Her eyes bored straight into Emily's, and Emily couldn't stop the water that was accumulating around her eyes.

"For two years," she continued, "I've been willing myself to talk to you, so we could talk about what happened—"

"It was a long time ago," Paige interrupted.

"Yeah, it was," she agreed. "Long enough, don't you think?"

Paige was no longer looking at her. She just sat silently.

"I just, I miss my best friend," Emily stated simply. "And I hate that you live an hour away and I only ever see you at swim meets a few times a year, where you won't even look at me and I'm too fucking scared to speak to you." She looked down for a second and then ran a hand through her hair and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry this has happened to you, but I'm not sorry your mom called me. It's because of her call that I'm here now talking to you."

It felt like an eternity passed and Paige still hadn't said anything. She hadn't even looked at Emily since she saw the tears welling up her eyes.

"You look like shit, by the way," she said, gambling that Paige would know she didn't mean it seriously.

It worked to diffuse the tension in the room because Paige was laughing again—not unrestrained laughter, but just enough to allow Emily to relax a little bit. "Thanks for that," she said. "I forgot how good you were for my self-esteem."

Emily allowed herself a small laugh. "Hey! I was good for your self esteem," she said in her defense.

"Yeah, you were," Paige agreed. "Hey, do you remember that time at camp, that summer before our junior year, when you pushed Alison into the water because she insulted my body?"

Emily smirked when she looked up at Paige. "I believe her exact words were: 'Oh my God, Paige, put some clothes on! No one at a church camp should have to see what you look like with so little clothes. You look like a boy.' It would have been a lot funnier if I didn't have to rescue her from the water a few seconds later," she said, enjoying the sound of Paige's laughter. "How was I supposed to know she couldn't swim?"

Paige shook her head as much as she could with her broken collarbone. "She deserved it," she said quietly. "God, high school mostly sucked, didn't it? I'm so glad I'm more than two thousand miles away from everyone."

"Do you ever go back?" Emily asked, curiously. She hadn't been back since she moved to California. Her mom left as soon as she could to be reunited with her husband, but Paige's parents still lived in Rosewood.

"I went back for a couple of weeks last summer for my parents' twenty-fifth anniversary. But swim season, as you know, keeps me away from traveling during peak holiday times. My parents have traveled to me the last couple of Christmases," she explained. "My mom doesn't need a better excuse to escape the cold."

"I'm glad to see you're okay, Paige," Emily said seriously. "You scared the shit out of me."

Paige shifted on the sofa, wincing in pain. Emily stood up to see if she could help, but Paige waived her off and Emily sat on the sofa where Spencer was sitting before she left, now only two feet away from Paige. "The doctors told me I was pretty lucky. I'm told the car is done though."

"Your mom said as much," Emily said, giving Paige a sympathetic look. "What does this mean for your swimming?" she asked with trepidation.

"I'll be out about eight weeks, the doctor thinks," she explained and Emily, who, not for the first or even second time that day, breathed a sigh of relief. Paige may not yet be a household name, but Emily knew in fewer than two years she'd be a national treasure. "I'm going to see the team doctor on Monday to get a more thorough diagnosis, but the emergency doctor said I shouldn't have a problem getting back to where I was. I was really lucky it wasn't worse and even luckier I busted my collarbone and not my shoulder."

"Has your coach been to see you?"

"Yeah," she said yawning. "He came to the hospital early this morning. When he found out I was okay, he chewed me out for being out so late, so that was fun."

"What time was it?"

"Just before three."

"Why were you out that late?" Emily asked. It's not that Emily thought it weird a university student would be out until three, but Paige had always kept to a meticulous training schedule, which included early-morning workouts and a strict bedtime. But that was high school Paige. She didn't know if Stanford Paige was different.

Paige grimaced. "I was getting dumped."

"Oh," Emily said, raising her eyebrows and turning her head to face the TV, which probably looked weird since it wasn't on. "Well, you had a really great night, then."

"Yeah," Paige said with half a laugh. "I've had better."

Emily didn't know what to say, even though her curiosity to know more about that particular subject tempted her to ask questions she had no right to ask. Paige was staring at her when she finally looked back. She said nothing out loud, but her eyes—her deep brown eyes—were daring Emily not to turn away.

It was Paige who broke their eye contact first, but only her eyes moved. Emily used the opportunity to look away again, this time finding her hand a most interesting object. Then Paige said, "It's really for the best, though. She was a bit of idiot."

Emily's head snapped back up. Paige was looking at her again, the slightest grin plastered across her face. She was expecting Emily to respond in some way.

"Still, no one likes getting dumped," Emily said stupidly. "How long were you together?" she asked. She couldn't help herself.

"Since May," she replied, her eyes not hiding her amusement.

"Swim team?"

"No. God, no!" she quickly exclaimed. "I don't need that kind of drama anywhere near the water."

Emily nodded. "Does she know about the accident?"

"I can't imagine how she'd know. Spencer would definitely not have told her, and I hadn't really introduced her to anyone else who would tell her," she said. "Spencer's thrilled she's out of the picture." Emily's mouth turned up on one side along with Paige's. "I mean, she wants to kill her, but she's stoked she doesn't have to see her anymore."

"Protective of you, is she?"

"You could say that, I suppose," she said. "Or controlling. That works too," she said laughing, without the slightest bit of malice. "She thinks I have horrible taste in women."

"Do you agree?" she asked, immediately wishing she could take it back.

Paige knitted her eyebrows together for the briefest moment before tilting her head up and smiling again—a full smile this time—when she turned back to Emily. "I don't have the best track record," she admitted.

They returned to safer topics until Spencer returned, as promised, within the hour. She'd picked up a couple of salads and some sandwiches and insisted Emily stay for lunch at least. Paige, who'd been up all night and was in visible pain, was fighting to stay awake, but Spencer insisted she eat before falling asleep. Spencer was yawning, too, but she kept the conversation going as they ate lunch.

When they finished, Emily rose to leave, but Spencer asked her to wait until after she helped Paige to bed.

"Emily," Paige said just before she left the room, "thanks for coming by today. It really meant a lot to me."

"You're welcome," she replied, blushing. "And thanks for not kicking me out."

Paige laughed. "And why would I do that?" she asked, winking at Emily before disappearing down the hall.

Emily was lost in thought and hadn't noticed Spencer had returned.

"I'll walk you out," Spencer said, getting Emily's attention.

"You really don't have to do that."

Spencer looked at Emily, raising that left eyebrow again. "I know that," she said in the same tone she used when she answered to door. "I want to walk you out."

Emily grabbed her bag and walked with Paige's roommate out of the apartment.

"Thanks again for lunch," Emily said trying to break some of the tension she was gleaning from the brunette beside her.

"Listen, Emily," Spencer started, ignoring Emily's comment. Emily's heart started beating the way it always did when she felt nervous. "Paige has been through a lot, and it's only going to get harder from here as she works to get better and move on from that vapid of a ex-girlfriend of hers, so if you're only here for your sake or her mom's, then don't you dare come back to see her again. I care way too much for that girl to see her disappointed or let down."

So this was the Spencer Paige had told Emily about, she thought, as she considered what, if anything, she should say. Emily kept her eyes unflinchingly on Spencer's. She knew it wasn't an empty threat, even if she technically hadn't threatened her and even if she didn't know how much Spencer actually knew about Emily's history with Paige. "I'll see you next weekend," she said as she opened up her car door and got inside.

When she looked back to Spencer as she started up the car, she saw the Stanford swimmer smirking at her as she drove away.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks again for all the reviews and faves/follows. This update marks the half-way point in terms of updates, but I'll be back again midweek, unless I get impatient and update before. This part picks where we left them in the past. Thanks for reading!**

Paige was right about confronting Alison. Emily's act of heroism ostracized her from Rosewood's first circle, which wasn't how she intended to start life at her new school, but at least Noel Kahn now left her alone. Plus, she finally earned Paige's trust.

And Paige, Emily discovered, was pretty great once she decided you were worth her time. She was smart and funny and, contrary to what Emily had heard and thought she understood at swim camp, didn't take herself too seriously. For Emily, Paige was a change from just about every person she'd met. Being the new kid—an army kid at that—and being kid who stuck out in mostly-white communities, Emily was used to answering the same, tired questions over and over. But Paige didn't seem to care what Emily's father had seen or done or how many schools Emily had been to or what her ethnic background was comprised of. All Paige seemed to care about was how Emily had managed to be such an accomplished swimmer having moved around so much, because Emily was actually quite good in the water, too.

The first time Emily asked Paige to come over to her house was in late October their freshman year of high school. Emily wanted Paige to come over to carve pumpkins and decorate sugar cookies and watch scary movies. Emily loved Halloween. No matter where she lived or how many friends she had or didn't have, Halloween provided the opportunity to be someone other than the new kid or the tall girl or the "exotic beauty" she'd heard herself described by a couple of her friends' moms.

Paige said she had to ask her parents, but the brief look of panic in her eyes when Emily had asked didn't give Emily much hope of anything happening. Sure enough, Paige came back the next day and told Emily that her parents said no. Something about Halloween being a pagan celebration and how Paige's parents had to endorse all the movies she saw. Plus, her parents didn't let her go anywhere unless they'd met and approved of the adult supervision.

Emily was disappointed but not really surprised. Paige's parents had a reputation of being strict. But Emily barely ever saw Paige at school since they shared only one class, and Emily didn't have many other friends thanks to that run in with Alison her first week at school.

Several weeks later Paige surprised Emily with an invitation of her own. Her church was putting on a Christmas performance and Paige asked Emily if she'd wanted to join them. They'd eat dinner at Paige's house first and then attend the show. It wasn't exactly what Emily had in mind, and she was sure her mom wouldn't exactly be comfortable with the arrangement, having sworn off evangelical weirdos when a group protesting abortions exposed her young eight year-old daughter to some horrifically graphic images of aborted fetuses when they lived in Georgia. She didn't want her daughter anywhere near such rigid dogma, which is why she never encouraged religion of any kind except to appease the grandmothers.

Emily knew it was a risky ask. Her mom was pretty relaxed when it came to parenting, but once she made her mind up about something she was impossible to sway.

"Mom," Emily started cautiously one Tuesday night, as her mothered busied herself with a salad for dinner. "You know my friend Paige from school?"

"The girl on your swim team?"

"Yeah," Emily confirmed.

"The girl whose parents wouldn't let her come over for Halloween?"

"Yeah. Anyway," Emily said quickly, shaking her head, not wanting her mom to dwell on that particular detail, "she's invited me for dinner at her house on Saturday night, and I was hoping I could go."

Her mom didn't look up from the carrot she was chopping. "I don't see why not. I was actually starting to worry about you not getting out enough."

"Yeah, making friends has been hard here. I didn't realize how much not living in a military town would change things," she reflected out loud. Emily's parents had never sent their daughter to school on a military base in an effort to broaden her world a bit. Life on base was so insular and they didn't want Emily growing up in an Army bubble. But at least they'd always been in military towns. Her classes usually had at least one kid whose mom or dad was serving or had served in the military. Rosewood was far removed from that reality.

"I think this is a great opportunity, then. Are you going be spending the night?"

"I don't think so. Paige never mentioned anything like that. I think they'll just drop me off after the performance," Emily explained in what she hoped was a causal way.

Her mother stopped chopping. "You didn't mention a performance," she said, turning towards her daughter.

"Oh, well, she invited me to see her church's Christmas play. I guess it's a pretty big deal."

"And you want to go?" her mom asked. "You've never expressed an interest in church stuff before."

"I thought 'Jesus was the reason for the season,' mom," Emily said sarcastically, making her mom's mouth twitch upward. "I want to hang out with Paige," she said earnestly, "so I'll go to this show."

"Well, I guess you're old enough to decide whether or not you want to go to church, so have fun, honey."

"Thanks, mom."

"But if you try to rope me into any of this, you're not allowed to go to church anymore," she said winking at her daughter.

Pam Fields walked Emily to the McCullers' front door. Emily figured it was a parental duty, seeing with whom she was entrusting her only child. She'd told her mom as much as she knew: Paige's dad was a pastor, her mom stayed at home full-time, her parents were really strict and, like Emily, Paige was an only child. But Paige really didn't talk about them much.

The McCullers' house was larger than Emily expected for a three-person, one-income family. On the front door a placard hung that read: "Knock and the door will be opened to you. Matthew 7:7." Emily heard her mom utter an "Oh brother" under her breath as she rang the doorbell. She hoped her mom hadn't noticed the welcome mat on which they stood that read: "As for me and my house, we will serve The Lord. Joshua 24:15."

Paige opened the door a few moments later, looking radiant with her hair pulled back into a ponytail and wearing a blue, white and red Nordic sweater—the kind with the reindeer on them—and a dark pair of jeans. "Hi," she said looking at Emily, smiling resplendently while also bashfully. "You made it." Then, as if noticing another person on porch, she turned to Emily's mom and said, more formally, "Oh, hello, Mrs. Fields. Please come in. It must be freezing out there."

Just as they entered, a woman, who must have Paige's mom, appeared from a door just off the dining room that was just to the left of the entryway. She was a couple of inches shorter than Paige but thin like her daughter. Emily thought she looked glamorous in that way women in old movies always did with their hair perfectly arranged and their makeup tastefully applied, wearing a waist apron covering a dark skirt. Paige had her mother's eyes, she noticed. "Welcome," she said. "You must be Emily. We've heard so much about you."

Paige officially introduced her mother to both Emily and Mrs. Fields, the latter whom had just popped in to meet Paige's parents. And even though Mrs. McCullers invited Pam to "stay for dinner; we have so much food," Emily's mom politely declined and left before Mr. McCullers emerged from somewhere else in the house.

Mr. McCullers was tall, handsome and welcoming. He could even be described as warm, which contradicted everything she'd heard about him over the last few months, even if was a little intense. He asked Emily about her parents, her travels and, of course, her swimming. He had started to ask Emily if her family attended a church, when Paige's mom, interrupted.

"Stop badgering our guest, Nick. She just got here and I'm sure Paige wants to show her around before dinner." Paige looked at her mother gratefully. "There will be plenty of time to ask Emily if she's ever been baptized or if she thinks she'll make the relay team."

Emily panicked the slightest bit at the potential dinner conversation, but when Paige grabbed her had and told her, "Let me show you my room," Emily forgot to be worried.

Paige's bedroom didn't reveal much about its occupant. The walls were mostly bare, except for a poster of a male swimmer mid butterfly with a note about "Character" and a shelf displaying swim trophies and medals. A small, three-shelf bookcase was packed full of books and a framed picture of her family when Paige was quite small and had chubby cheeks and pudgy legs. Emily wasn't even aware she had picked up the picture when Paige interrupted whatever thoughts were running through her head to tell her, "I was two."

"You were adorable," she heard herself say. She was sure she was blushing.

"I was a fat," Paige said laughing. Emily laughed with her.

They had about twenty minutes alone before Mrs. McCullers announced that dinner was ready. Paige looked a bit uncomfortable, and Emily didn't know why. But it was nice being there with her, outside of school where, at least for now, they were sure to avoid the Alisons of Rosewood. Emily even thought to ask, in a quiet voice, where Paige hid the Harry Potter books, which made Paige look at her thoughtfully, cheekily, before walking to the bookcase and pulling a few books laid out so that the spine butted up against other books. "Sometimes hiding in the open raises the least suspicion," she said sagely. "That, and my parents don't linger in my room."

Mrs. McCullers made a lasagna and salad for dinner, but before they ate Mr. McCullers grabbed his wife's hand and then Paige's. Emily furrowed her eyebrows for a second before noticing Paige's hand reaching out for hers and, for the second time that night, rescuing her from any potential awkwardness. Emily's other hand found Mrs. McCullers' while Paige's father said grace. Paige squeezed her hand the slightest bit when he said "Amen." The action caused Emily to look at Paige, who gave her a warm, shy smile, which she returned.

The food was delicious, but dinner was weird. Paige's mom began the conversation by stating, "We're so excited to have you here tonight. Paige never brings any friends home." She said it more unthinkingly than maliciously. Emily didn't think she meant to embarrass her daughter, who, when Emily glanced over, was looking at her plate like it was the most interesting object in the world and her cheeks now matched the colour of the reindeer on her sweater.

Emily didn't know how to respond to that, so she smiled and said simply, "Thanks for having me."

"We hope you enjoy the show tonight," her father interjected. "The cast and crew have been working hard to get it ready. Paige even helped with the sets and costumes."

Emily looked to her friend, who had just taken a sip of water. "You didn't say you'd worked on the show."

Paige just shrugged her shoulders. "It's not really a big deal."

Emily returned her attention to Paige's dad. "I'm really looking forward to it."

Thankfully, the conversation turned towards swimming, and Emily relaxed a little. Mr. McCullers asked her about her favourite events, her personal bests, her goals for the year. When Emily said she didn't put that much thought into it, that she just loved being in the water and loved how she felt after a hard workout or how great it felt to win a race, Mr. McCullers considered what she said and then said, "Well, we have a specific plan for Paige's swimming career. We think she can get a scholarship to a competitive Division One School that may also help launch her to bigger things. Isn't that right, Paige?" he asked, looking at his daughter, who was picking at the food on her plate with her fork.

"Yeah, dad," she said once she looked up at him. She was smiling, but Emily knew her well enough at this point to know it was forced. But when she turned Emily, the smile was genuine. "My dream is to get into Stanford," she said.

The Christmas production itself was actually impressive and included real animals on stage, but the real performance winners were the four year-olds singing Christmas carols to open the show. Afterward, Mr. McCullers, who had disappeared to perform pastoral duties at the beginning and end of the show, found Paige in the reception area, where she and Emily sipped hot chocolates and ate baked goods. There was another man with him. He was tall with graying hair but with a youngish face.

"Oh, hi, Pastor Ted," Paige said.

"Paige, your father said you brought a friend and I wanted to introduce myself," he said before glancing to Emily with a smile.

"Right," the swimmer said. "Emily, this is the youth pastor, Ted."

"It's nice to meet you, Emily," he said. "Nick tells me you're new to Rosewood."

"Yes, sir," she said.

"Great," he said. And then he waved someone over to him from somewhere behind Emily. When Emily turned to follow his gaze, she saw a teenage boy walking over. When he finally arrived, Pastor Ted said: "Emily, this is my son, Ben."

The dark haired boy smiled and extended his hand. "Hi," he said.

Emily looked to Paige, who was rolling her eyes.

"Ben is homeschooled," Pastor Ted explained. "He's in tenth grade. Anyway, I hope we see you again," he said before walking away and saying bye to Paige.

Ben stayed behind to chat with Emily and all but ignored her friend.


	4. Chapter 4

A few weeks had passed since Paige's car accident, and Emily, true to her unspoken promise to Spencer, had been back to Palo Alto at least once a week since her first visit. She was waiting for her parents, who agreed to pay for all her gas while she was in university, to call for an explanation why her credit card statements had spiked in the last few weeks. But so far she didn't have to explain. And, really, they had always liked Paige, once they'd gotten to know her, even if her mom thought she was "a little odd," so she thought they'd understand.

Emily had plans to go again on Saturday afternoon, promising to cook dinner for Paige and Spencer. It was the least she could do since they always managed to feed her during her visits. She'd expected Spencer to give her a hard time since the warning she'd received from her on her first trip to Palo Alto and because they actually competed against each other head-to-head in the pool. Spencer had bested her in the conference championships by a few hundredths of a second in the two hundred-yard backstroke, which Emily planned to redeem this season. But the girls rarely spoke about swimming, unless it was directly related to Paige's rehab. And Spencer seemed to genuinely like her. She trusted her, at least, using Emily's last couple of visits as opportunities to get out of the house and go out with friends or her boyfriend. Just last week she convinced Emily to spend the night to keep an eye on Paige and so she could have her own sleepover with Toby, giving Paige a break from his near-constant presence in the house since Spencer devoted so much of her free time caring for roommate. She even offered her own bed.

Paige and Emily were also making great strides to reestablish their once-strong friendship, and for the first time in years Emily felt all was well with the world again. There was a distance between them—Emily couldn't deny it—but she also felt the familiar warmth she'd always felt around Paige and how easy it was just to be near each other, even if neither had made any attempt to address the past.

Samantha mocked her endlessly each time she returned from a visit.

"How was your sleepover?" she teased when she got back the previous Sunday.

Emily shook her head and rolled her eyes. "It was fine. Spencer has a comfortable bed," Emily said, refusing to give her roommate more than that.

"And how's the invalid?"

"She's doing better." Emily couldn't help the smile that escaped when she thought about the star swimmer. She hoped Sam hadn't picked up on that. "She seems to be in less pain and is managing better on her own."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "That's really all you're giving me?" she asked. "You're spending all this time with the newly single and super hot former best friend of yours, who, however briefly, was once more than just your best friend, and that's all you're giving me?"

Emily felt heat rush to her ears. "It's not like that," she insisted. "We're just spending time together, becoming friends again. She hasn't even... We haven't even hugged."

"And why's that exactly?"

"Sam, leave it," Emily said seriously. "I barely even know her anymore. Trust me, she's changed a lot since we were friends and, while I'm really getting along with this new version of her, I'm still getting to know her."

"Uh huh," Sam hummed, unconvinced.

"I'm serious!" Emily insisted. "Plus, she just got out of a relationship."

Emily could tell Sam wasn't persuaded, but at least she dropped it for the time being.

On Thursday afternoon, Emily received a text from Spencer:

_Saturday__afternoon at 2, meet me at Memorial Glade.__  
><em>  
>Emily knitted her eyebrows together, wondering why Spencer was coming to Berkeley. She was supposed to be going to Palo Alto that afternoon.<p>

She sent Spencer a text back.

_I thought I was coming over to cook that day_.

A few minutes later, she received a reply.

_You are. But Memorial Glade first.__2:00__._

Emily, still confused, asked Sam later, "Is there anything happening at Memorial Glade on Saturday afternoon?"

"There's always something going on there."

"No, I know, but Spencer Hastings told me to meet her there on Saturday, but she didn't say why."

"Spencer Hastings? Stanford swimmer Spencer Hastings?" Sam asked. "Paige McCullers' ultra-competitive, beat-you-in-the-pool-last-year Spencer Hastings? Your new bed-sharing-bestie Spencer Hastings? "

Emily rolled her eyes.

"This I have to see," Sam said.

When Emily and Sam reached Memorial Glade on Saturday, a small crowd had already formed around the chalk-partitioned lawn. On each end were what looked to be three loop stands, but Emily was looking for Spencer, while Sam was freaking the fuck out about something.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed. "We're at a Quidditch match."

Emily stopped to take in her surrounding and saw cardinal red-clad players carrying brooms. She had never seen Quidditch played before, though she had always been curious. This also explained why Spencer was at Berkeley: her boyfriend played on Stanford's Quidditch team.

Emily looked for the Stanford supporters and saw Spencer standing next to a seated Paige, who was wearing a black hoodie and, what appeared to be, a red and white Stanford scarf.

Sam was the first to speak when they finally reached the two rival swimmers. "I didn't realize Slytherin was coming to campus today," she said, looking at the Stanford team finishing up their warm-up drills.

Emily cut off any potential reply by quickly stepping in to introduce her roommate, which wasn't really necessary since the Stanford and Cal swim teams were quite familiar with one another.

"It's great to see you out and about, Paige," Emily said to her high school friend, feeling oddly nervous. "You must be feeling better."

"I am," she said smiling. "But I'm mostly sick of only getting out to go to class."

"I tried saying no," Spencer said, finally taking a seat in the chair next to Paige. "God forbid I hurt her collarbone again by stepping too quickly on the brakes, but she's a stubborn one."

Paige shook her head. "It was fine. I'm fine," she amended.

"So, Paige," Sam started, "any chance you're going to be back when our teams go head-to-head? It'll be so much more rewarding to beat you if you're back in the water."

Emily stared at her roommate incredulously, while Paige dropped her head and laughed and Spencer scoffed, saying, "Yeah, that's not gonna happen."

Paige, who was a First-Team All-American, the Pac-12 Swimmer of the Year last year and the captain of the second-ranked team in the country, simply said, "I'll be back," and winked at Sam.

Emily could hardly keep her eyes on the Quidditch pitch, nervous that Sam or Spencer would say something that would set the other one off. She loved her roommate, and she was gaining a real affection for Paige's roommate, but both could be a little volatile. They represented rival, powerhouse swimming schools and had a lot of pride about their respective teams and universities. Emily understood it, and she knew, without ever speaking to her about it, that Paige did too. But thankfully nothing more was said about swimming or about the larger Stanford-Cal rivalry, despite the fact that the two schools were pitted against each other on the field before them. Spencer was mostly focused on the match at hand, screaming her encouragement to Toby, who Emily had pointed out to Sam.

And so far Sam was behaving well, even though she had whispered to Emily shortly after her discussion with Paige, "Damn, Fields, McCullers is even hotter than I remembered," for which Emily swatted her in the ribs. But after thirty minutes of Quidditch play and no sightings of the snitch, Emily heard Sam ask, "So, Paige, what was Emily like in high school?"

Paige, squinting in the bright fall sun, looked to Emily briefly, before looking past her to Sam, who was seated on the ground on Emily's other side. "Um, I don't know. Conscientious, kind, brave? She was a good friend. I don't know. It's sort of hard to boil her down to a few words," she admitted.

Emily hoped Sam was satisfied with that answer. She didn't want Paige to be put on the spot or have to wonder how much Sam knew about their friendship. But Sam wasn't quite satisfied.

"Please tell me, at least, that she had more game with the ladies than she does now. This girl can't keep a girl around if her life depended on it." Sam revealed.

Emily glared at Sam who wasn't fazed by Emily's gaze, but Emily could feel Paige starring at her. Sure enough, when Emily finally turned her head to see if she could gauge Paige's expression, Paige was looking right at her, her eyebrows knitted together trying to figure something out. She noticed Spencer was starring at her, too.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity but was really only a few seconds, Paige looked to Sam and said, "I'm not actually sure. Emily only dated one person in high school before breaking up with him to concentrate on swimming."

Emily finally glanced back to her roommate, the latter whom looked like she was trying to work details out in her head. She knew Sam would have many questions for her later, but at least she was quiet for now. Moments later, the whistle blew and the crowd began cheering, while Spencer swore under her breath. The Bears had caught the snitch, ending the match and also pulling ahead in points to win the game. Sam joined the crowd already cheering, while Emily snuck a peek at Paige, who was whispering something in Spencer's ear as the Stanford team went to shake hands with the victorious squad. Then, a sweaty and exhausted Toby grabbed his girlfriend from behind and waved at Emily as Spencer playfully shoved him off before reaching up to give him a kiss on the lips.

When she finished Spencer turned to Emily and asked, "So we'll see you in a bit?"

Emily nodded, still shaken from Sam's exchange with Paige. "Yeah. I'm going to stop at the store first, but," she said glancing at her phone to look at the time, "I should be there by five, depending on traffic."

"Sounds good. See you then," she said, collapsing the chairs she and Paige sat in during the match. "We'll see you in the water, Bowen," she said to Sam.

Sam waived. "It was nice meeting you both," she said sincerely. "It's going to make it all the more awkward when we beat you." She really couldn't help herself, but it made everyone laugh, including Spencer. But it was Paige who took the bait this time.

"Good luck with that," she said winking to Sam. "Remind me again which team is nationally-ranked second and which team is fifth?" Spencer gave her teammate a high five.

Emily looked to Sam to see how she was taking the well-deserved taunting. Sam put her fist to her heart and said dramatically, "Just when I was beginning to like you, McCullers," making Paige laugh. "But seriously," Sam added, "good luck with your rehab. I really do hope you're at full strength when we compete in February."

"Thanks," Paige said, looking a little surprised by the well wishes. "I hope so too."

Sam started walking away and Emily followed, but not before she squeezed Paige's shoulder, the side that wasn't dangling from a sling, and said quietly in her ear, "I'll see you later." She quickened her pace to meet Sam, noticing only that Paige nodded her head. It was the first time she'd touched her since they were seventeen.

On her way to Palo Alto, Emily received a text from Spencer, sent at 4:46:  
><em><br>__Please tell me you're close. The ex just showed up and she won't leave and Paige is too polite to tell her to fuck off. Help!_

Well, this was an interesting development and not one Emily was sure she was ready for. Paige had talked a bit about her recent girlfriend, Tessa, and she didn't seem that broken up about getting dumped by her, to be honest. Spencer didn't even try to hide her disdain for the girl, calling her "the stupidest person to ever be accepted to Stanford," but Spencer lived for hyperbole, so Emily wasn't sure what to think. She wasn't a subject Emily ever wanted to dwell on.

At 5:02 she received another text from Spencer:

_Seriously. Where the fuck are you?_

Emily parked her car in front of their building and sent off a reply:

_Outside now. See you soon._

Spencer met her at the entrance gate, saving her having to buzz in.

"Thank God you're here," she said.

"What's she doing here?" Emily asked, getting straight to the point.

"She just heard about the accident and 'Oh Em Gee! I came as soon as I could,'" Spencer said, finishing the sentence off in her best valley girl accent, which was actually hilarious coming from the native New Yorker's mouth. "You have to help me get her to leave, or I'm going to kill her," she stressed.

"What do you want me to do?" Emily asked. She really didn't know what she could do.

Spencer huffed. "I don't know. Tell her her hair is on fire, or something. Maybe she'll run out in panic."

Emily just starred at her, as if to ask, really?

"What?" Spencer asked. "She's actually a moron. It might work."

When Emily and Spencer entered the apartment they saw Tessa, a smallish dark-haired girl who was probably described as cute everywhere she went, sitting right next to Paige, fussing over her. Paige looked extremely uncomfortable, which is probably why when she saw Emily enter she exclaimed, with the biggest smile Emily had seen in a long time, "Emily! You're here!"

Tessa turned to face the intruder and gave Emily a dirty look, which Emily ignored. Emily hated her immediately. She wanted her gone. And between what Spencer and Paige had said about the girl previously, and the way she saw her hanging all over Paige, despite Paige's obvious discomfort, something inside of her snapped. Moving solely on instinct, she sauntered over to Paige, grocery bags still in hand, and leaned down to give her friend a gentle but lingering kiss on her lips. She smiled when upon opening her eyes she saw that Paige's were still closed, the slightest smile on her just-kissed lips.

"Hey, babe," she said quietly, running her hand down Paige's cheek. "How are you feeling?"

Paige looked at Emily, curiosity filling her eyes, asking questions Emily didn't know she could answer. Finally, she stuttered, "I-I'm, um, I'm good."

"I'm glad," she said, still in a bit of shock over what she'd just done. "I'll be right back," she added, as she started walking to the kitchen to put the groceries away. She turned to back to Paige, who hadn't taken her eyes off of her, and winked at her before she disappeared into the kitchen. Tessa, she'd noticed, looked livid, while Spencer was trying to not laugh, though at what Emily couldn't be sure. Paige didn't say another word.

Emily was glad for the temporary reprieve the kitchen provided her. It gave her a chance to try and make sense of what had just happened. She'd kissed Paige. She'd actually kissed Paige. Spencer had begged her to help her get rid of the ex, but this was certainly not what she had in mind. She just hoped she hadn't overstepped anything with Paige, who had at least gone with it in the moment.

She stood in front of the open refrigerator, trying to compose herself and quell the beating of her chest. She had only felt that once before and she was sure she'd never feel it again. This time there was no mistaking what it meant. "Shit," she said out loud to herself, closing the refrigerator door.

Emily didn't hear what was said when she went into the kitchen, but she returned to see Tessa leaving the apartment in a huff, punctuating her departure by slamming the door.

Spencer turned to her smiling and said, "Well done, Emily."

When she turned to Paige, she noticed she'd sobered a bit from the stunt Emily pulled, and she was looking at her intensely, waiting to see what Emily's next move would be.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: This is the penultimate chapter. The last one will go up during the week. Thanks for all the reviews, faves and follows.**

Emily began attending Rosewood Community Church after attending the Christmas program. It wasn't that she had been sucked into the religiousness of it; it was because it gave her an opportunity to see Paige outside of school at least two days a week, Sunday mornings and Wednesday nights for youth group. Her mom didn't the like idea, but she had meant what she said to Emily—that she was old enough to start making these decisions on her own. The increased appearances at church also put her into the path of Ben, for which he took full advantage. By Valentine's Day they were officially a couple.

Paige never hid her disgust with that particular development. "I just don't get it, Emily," she said when Emily told her Ben asked her out. "Why Ben?"

It was a good question and one Emily knew she didn't have a good answer for.

"Why not Lucas?" Paige asked.

"Lucas? Lucas Gottesman?"

"Yes, Lucas. He's nice and smart and funny—three things Ben is not," she declared. "And he's crazy about you."

Emily frowned. "Why do you think he's crazy about me? He never talks to me."

"Exactly. Because has a really big crush on you."

Emily laughed. "First of all, I've never thought of Lucas in that way. And, secondly, if he can't even talk to me, it's never going to happen anyway."

Paige looked so wounded. "Okay, so not Lucas, but Ben?"

Emily was starting to get annoyed with her friend. She knew Paige didn't really like Ben, and she knew Ben made no effort to engage Paige at church, even though they were both pastor's kids in the same church and had known each other since they were very young, but she thought she'd at least be happy for her. He was her first boyfriend. It was kind of a big deal. And Ben wasn't a bad guy. He was charming and tall and he played the guitar for the youth group praise band, which meant, of course, that in youth group he was one of the cool kids. And he was interested in Emily. Best of all, he wasn't affected by Alison's social mandates, which excluded Emily from the company of the majority of Rosewood High School students, which was more impressive since Alison attended Rosewood Community Church, too. Mostly, although it hadn't occurred to her, Ben was safe, and Emily craved safety.

With the exception of the occasional eye roll and the more often exercised act of walking away if she saw Ben approaching Emily, Paige didn't say anything else about it. And, miraculously, she and Ben had come to a sort of unspoken truce when it came to spending time with Emily. Emily spent the majority of church time with Paige. Ben was busy with band stuff there most of the time anyway. Emily spent time with Ben outside of church, which worked since Paige's time was so regulated, though the McCullers had started to relax a bit in that regard, too, especially now that Emily started going to church regularly.

But for Emily, the worst part about dating Ben had nothing to do with Paige's disdain for him. She and Emily rarely discussed him and, as he wasn't at school with them, they carried on there as normal. It wasn't until their sophomore year, shortly after Ben got his driver's license, that Alison decided to cause trouble in decidedly Alison ways.

Paige usually walked home with Emily, as she lived only a twenty-minute walk from the school and in the direction of Paige's house, from which point she would begin her own journey home on bike for another fifteen minutes. It was the routine they started their freshman year after swim season started and had continued the following year. On this particular November day, they had no reason to think their routine would be any different, until Paige saw Ben waiting across the street from the school in a parked car, honking his horn when he spotted his girlfriend. Emily turned her head to the sound of the horn and waved when he waved at her. Then she looked to Paige, who was still staring at Ben, a darkness now clouding her eyes.

"I didn't know he was coming, I swear," Emily pleaded truthfully, knowing what was going on in the other girl's mind.

Paige turned to Emily. She looked betrayed. Emily knew how sacred their after-school walk was, and she knew it mattered as much to Paige as it did to her—twenty minutes away from parents, the swim team, youth group, Alison DiLaurentis and, perhaps most importantly, Ben. Twenty minutes filled with laughter and serenity and stolen glances, spoken pacts and unspoken ones, too. Twenty minutes wherein nothing existed outside of Emily and Paige. In short, it was the highlight of Emily's day. And unknowingly Ben had stolen it away.

He called her by name from across the street, but she continued to stare at Paige, hoping to communicate all the disappointment she, too, felt.

Paige, defeated, simply said, "I'll see you tomorrow, Em," and kicked her leg over her bike to start her escape.

But before Paige had the chance to fully mount her bike and before Emily started walking over to Ben, she heard Alison say to Paige: "Looks like you've been dumped, McCullers. Emily finally wised up and traded up." She said it loudly for full effect, and the small crowd around rewarded her effort by chuckling on cue.

Emily quickly looked to Paige, who was bravely staring at Alison despite the tears that had started to form in her eyes. "Fuck you, Alison," she spat before riding away.

Emily turned her attention to Alison. She was already upset by Ben's unexpected appearance and the pain she knew it must have caused Paige. But for Paige to have to deal with this taunting, too, Emily wanted to kill her. Instead, she asked, "Why do you have to be such a bitch?"

Alison rolled her eyes. "Don't push your luck, Emily. I've just thrown you a life jacket. Don't make me take it back."

"Fuck you, Alison," she said before finally crossing the street to Ben's waiting car.

Ben lasted another six months. The demands of school and swimming started taking a toll, and Ben, now finishing his junior year, had started to put pressure on Emily to take their relationship to places she wasn't ready to go. His insistence surprised her since he was so involved in church. His dad was the youth pastor, for Christ's sake. And she saw Ben take the abstinence pledge at the youth rally the church hosted in February. But Ben kept insisting that a blowjob wouldn't jeopardize that since "it wasn't really sex. And, I mean, we don't even have to start there," he argued one night as they were parked near the woods, the spot he often took her to make-out. "You could just touch it until I, you know," he said, loosening his belt.

When Emily insisted that she didn't want to "touch it," Ben slammed his hands against the steering wheel of his dad's car and yelled, "Damn it, Emily! Don't you love me?"

Emily didn't think it had anything to do with love and she was quickly losing patience with his good-boy-at-church/bad-boy-with-friends routine she'd begun to notice. A couple of weeks ago, she had to take his keys from him after he got wasted at Pat Lyon's eighteenth birthday party, after he sloppily made out with her and groped her over her clothes before she shoved him away. Two days later, he was front and center with the church band, leading the group in "Better Is One Day" like none of it ever happened.

Emily never told Paige about these incidents and not because she knew Paige hated any and all discussions about Ben, but because she feared what Paige may do in Emily's defense. Paige may have mastered the walk-away-endure-and-ignore technique when it came to dealing with her own bullies, but when it came to someone bothering Emily, she didn't turn the other cheek. Last swim season, a girl from Thornhill muttered an insult under her breath—some racial slur—as Emily and Paige walked by. Emily had just beaten her in the 200-yard backstroke and the girl, a senior, didn't like that this previously unknown freshman defeated her. Emily didn't actually hear what she said, but Paige heard and she went right up to the girl's face and told her to "shut your fucking mouth, you fucking white-trash bitch" loud enough for only the few people around them to hear, before Emily pulled her away to avoid it escalating into something more and ruining the team's or Paige's performance.

But talking about Ben to Paige would have been worse. She knew enough about him and his family to do real damage if she wanted to. And Emily didn't want that for any of them, but especially not for Paige, who was starting to gain some attention for her swimming, which meant she could get that Get-Out-Of-Rosewood-Free pass she so desperately wanted. And, really, Emily didn't need to talk to Paige about Ben. She knew what she had to do. So when Ben drove her home that night, the night she denied him both a blowjob and a hand job, she was ready to call it quits, and Ben managed to make it easy on her.

"I love you, Emily," he said for the first time. "And I want to be with you. But I'm going to need you to prove to me that you love me, too. I'm not going to wait around forever. There are plenty of girls who would gladly suck my dick and who wouldn't make me wait almost a year and a half."

Emily stared at him in disbelief, too shocked and grossed out to even speak for a second. Finally, she found her voice and said, "Have fun with those other girls, then." She left his car and closed the door.

But before she walked a few steps he opened the window and yelled, "You wasted more than a year of my life, you fucking dyke bitch!" before he drove away for good.

Paige never really said anything about Emily's break up with Ben, but Emily sensed her best friend's relief that he would no longer be around. That didn't stop Mr. McCullers from bringing it up one night when Emily was over for dinner.

"It's too bad you and Ben didn't work out, Emily," he said, not knowing he'd just made dinner awkward for at least half the table. "I thought you two made a nice couple."

Emily, who didn't know what to say to that, only smiled her response, while Mrs. McCullers scolded her husband for bringing the breakup up at all.

But things went back to normal for Paige and Emily. They continued to find success in the pool and they remained on the periphery of Rosewood High School's social scene, which was actually finally okay with Emily. Her brief hiatus with Ben had been enough time with the popular kids, and as she approached her third year of high school, she knew she had to really concentrate on swimming and school if she wanted to get a scholarship to a good school. Paige still had her sights set on Stanford. Emily's goals weren't nearly as lofty, but she still needed to work hard.

Summer provided a break from school and potential daily run-ins with Alison, who had increased the teasing since Emily's breakup with Ben. But the club swim season was only beginning, which meant Emily saw Paige everyday. On Wednesdays they went straight from swimming to youth group together. On one particular Wednesday night in July, they entered together as normal, Emily laughing at something Paige had said. But on this night they were immediately greeted by Alison, who was holding Ben's hand. They'd become a couple about a month after he and Emily broke up.

"Hi, Emily. Hi, Paige," Alison, who really couldn't help herself with it came to the two swimmers, said with a saccharin-laced smile. "Did you guys just come from practicing the breaststroke together?"

Ben and a couple of the other boys laughed. Paige just shook her head and began to walk away, past Alison, leaving Emily to stay or follow as she chose. But Emily stood there for a brief moment, looking between Ben and Alison and the fleeing Paige, and couldn't help herself. "And how are your knees, Ali?"

"My knees?" the blonde asked curiously.

"Yeah, it's just, I'm assuming you're spending a lot of time there lately, right? I mean, Ben basically broke up with me because I wouldn't satisfy his 'needs.'" she said, emphasizing the last word with air quotes before leaving to find Paige. She heard, rather than saw, Ben's friends trying and failing not to laugh.

The following Sunday afternoon, Emily was at Paige's house, laying out beside the McCullers family's pool, enjoying the heat of the summer sun and enjoying a rare moment near a swimming pool that didn't require endless laps back and forth. They'd even shed their one-pieces for bikinis. And if Emily thought Paige looked amazing in her Speedo then seeing her in a bikini was a revelation, though she did her best not to look, a move she'd practiced over and over in the locker room every day they were at the pool.

"Paige," Emily said looking at Paige, who lay on her back with her eyes closed, shattering the quiet they'd enjoyed for the last twenty minutes or so.

"Hmm?" her friend hummed.

"Why do, um, why does everyone tease you about being gay?" she asked. She'd wanted to ask this question since they'd become friends two years ago but never had the courage before now.

Paige opened her eyes and turned to Emily, squinting in the sun. She didn't speak for what felt like the longest time and then turned her head back and closed her eyes.

"Would you believe me if I told you and Ali and I used to be best friends?" she asked, not answering the question.

Emily tried not to be hurt her question was being ignored, but Paige's statement was ludicrous, so she couldn't help be laugh.

"I'm serious," Paige said, raising herself up to lean on her elbows and look directly into Emily's eyes. "In elementary school and through half of seventh grade."

Emily, who lay on her stomach, turned into her side, supporting her head with her right hand. "You're serious?" she asked, still not believing her.

"I'm not lying," Paige insisted. "You can go ask my mom if you don't believe me."

"Okay, I believe you," Emily said. "But you never said. And she hates you," Emily said like Paige wasn't already aware, which made Paige laugh.

"Yeah, well, she's a bitch. Anyway," Paige said, lying back down, "Ali started the rumour in seventh grade."

Emily was surprised Paige brought the conversation back to her original question. But it didn't fully answer the question. "Why would your best friend do that?" she asked.

"Brady Larson."

Emily smirked. Paige was being coy. Emily decided to play along. "Who's Brady Larson?"

"He was the cutest boy in our class: blonde, shaggy hair, blue eyes, dimples when he smiled, star soccer player. Every girl had a crush on him."

"Including Alison?"

"Especially Alison," Paige said with a smirk.

"Did you?"

"Every girl, Emily. Of course I had a crush on him," she said, turning to lay on her stomach.

"So what happened?"

Paige rested her head on her hands and looked at Emily. "His family moved to Phoenix after the school year ended." Emily shook her head and rolled her eyes, which made Paige laugh and acquiesce. "Brady liked me," she said. "I'm not really sure what he saw in me compared to the other girls, but he asked me to go to the movies with him."

"And you went?" Emily asked. She couldn't imagine her parents approving that.

"I asked my parents and they said no, of course, so I had to tell him I couldn't go. I think he took it to mean that I didn't like him or want to go out with him," she continued. "So he went to my best friend to see what she could tell him."

"Oh no," Emily said, guessing where this story was going.

"Yeah," Paige said, answering Emily's unspoken questions. "Rather than telling him the truth, that my parents barely let me out with my friends, so they'd never let me out a boy who liked me, she told him that I didn't like boys and to not take it personally."

"What a bitch," Emily gasped.

"You wanna know the best part?" Paige asked, her eyes finding Emily's again. Emily nodded. "I had to try to figure out what was going on when Brady came up to me the next day and in front of everyone said, 'Alison explained everything, and I just wanted to tell you that I think it's cool you like girls, Paige.' And I just stood there, silently, looking like an idiot because I was so confused by what I'd heard that I didn't even try to deny it. And that silence? That cemented it in everyone's minds," she finished.

Emily couldn't help but notice that Paige's eyes had watered up again, like they often did when she felt embarrassed or ashamed.

"Fuck, that's awful," Emily said, fully aware it provided no solace. "I'm sorry that happened to you."

Paige tried to shrug her off. "It was a long time ago. Plus, it made me see that Alison was really no friend of mine. She even became Brady's girlfriend after that," she laughed. "She was devastated when he moved at the end of the year."

Emily tried laughing too, to help shatter some of the tension she'd stirred up. "Ali's really something else."

Paige looked at her, cocking one eyebrow up, which made Emily laugh for real. "It's just," Emily started, "she always second choice. First Brady, then Ben." This made Paige really laugh.

The following year, in quiet moments, Emily often came back to the question of Paige's sexuality. It wasn't that it mattered in any real way, and Emily knew Paige's parents well enough to know that, even at sixteen, they would never allow her date. The thing was, Paige never challenged them, but then Paige never really challenged anything at all. And she was focused, spending most of her energy and time making herself attractive to Stanford by training religiously and studying hard. But, Brady aside, Paige never expressed even a minor interest in boys. It was just weird.

As for Emily and those thoughts she dwelled on at fourteen? Well, those never went away; she just learned to deal with them. She explained it to herself in many ways when she let herself actually think about what was going on, her favourite being that she'd never had a best friend before, so of course she would feel the inexplicable adoration. But she didn't have an excuse for the thoughts that still came to her at night, when she was in bed, remembering how after practice, as Paige stood facing her locker, how mesmerizing something as innocuous as a person's back could really be, the way a stray drop of water clung from her shoulders before creeping slowly over her shoulder blades and free-falling to the ground. Or that moment not long after when she stood there in a bra, sometimes black, sometimes white, and occasionally a light blue or a purple, but always somehow less innocent now, partially clothed, than she had been mere moments before. And even more innocent, but no less agonizing to Emily in those solitary moments were images of Paige just showered, but fully clothed, when she'd removed the towel from her head but hadn't run a brush through her just-washed hair. Emily didn't know what was so memorable about that particular moment, but that version of Paige often flashed through her mind.

But there was a lot to distract Emily from those thoughts, too, and it was easier to ignore them than try to make sense of them.

Junior year brought college recruiters to town to see the handful of Sharks that lurked in Rosewood's waters. The team won state the previous year, and in an unprecedented stroke of good luck, Coach Fulton had three swimmers who could land division one scholarships: Paige, Shana and Emily. Expectations were high going into their third year, and the _Philadelphia Inquirer _article that previewed the upcoming high school swim season, "What's in the Water in Rosewood?," which featured a picture of her, Paige, Shana and Madison—the members of the record-breaking relay team—only raised the hype.

Stanford came calling for Paige, as did a host of other schools, which didn't stand a chance if Stanford offered her a scholarship. Shana had her eyes set on Penn State and a few schools expressed interest in Emily, including Texas A&M and Texas, which were her parents' choices, but Cal was definitely tempting. And, while it would make her Paige's rival if she went to Stanford, at least they'd be close and get to see each other once in a while.

It was an exciting junior season, and one they delivered on by shattering their previous relay record and bringing home another state championship. And while they still had their final season to look forward to, life, for the moment, was good. Alison had even left them alone for the most part, which probably had a lot to do with all the attention the swimmers had received over that last year. The currency of small-time celebrity bought more than Alison's ire did.

The summer before their senior year produced a handful of memories, and Emily narrowed her choices down to Texas and Cal. She was leaning towards Cal, though, because it was a really good school and was one of the best swim programs in the country. Plus, it promised more Paige, who had recently officially voiced her intentions to attend Stanford, which was only about an hour's drive from Berkeley. Paige loved the idea, even if she had fun mocking the other school. They would be rivals, after all.

Paige's parents had even let up a bit now that she achieved the goals they'd set for her many years ago. She was even allowed to attend a few football games, which provided more of a venue to hangout than actual quality football to watch. The football team only won two games the year before, and there was little hope there would be any improvement this year. It was after one of those Friday night games that Emily went Paige's house, as she usually did after a game and often slept over. The Sharks lost forty-two to ten to Thornhill's formidable team, but that didn't matter to Emily or Paige, who hadn't watched much of the game in the first place.

"How was the game, girls?" Paige's mom asked when they walked through the door.

"Brutal," Paige answered. "We got killed."

"Oh, well, I'm not surprised," her mom said offhandedly. "Are either of you hungry? There's some leftover meatloaf and mashed potatoes in the fridge."

"Thanks, mom. We had nachos at the game."

"Okay. Well, if you need anything, we'll be here," Mrs. McCullers said as they headed up the stairs to Paige's room.

In Paige's room, they sat on the bed with Paige's laptop between them, watching a Harry Potter film, something that they'd started over the summer and were nearly finished with now. It wasn't the first time Paige had seen the films. For Christmas freshman year, Emily wrapped a small box for Paige that contained a flash drive. "For when you're parents aren't around," she said with a wink. On the drive were all eight Harry Potter films, which she devoured over the break while Emily and her mother were in Texas visiting her dad. It was the most thoughtful gift anyone had ever given her.

Harry Potter had sort of been their thing from that point. They talked endlessly about which houses they'd be in-Emily was definitely Hufflepuff, but Paige was harder to place. Paige argued in favour of Ravenclaw because she was on the honour's track at school, but Emily leaned towards Gryffindor because Paige was the bravest person she knew.

"That would mean I'd room with Hermione Granger," she said with a smile on her face. "That would be amazing."

Emily loved teasing her about her Hermione crush, but Paige owned up to it proudly. "She's fucking badass, Emily. She's the hero of the entire story!"

"It's not called the Hermione Granger Series," Emily argued.

"No," Paige consented, "but it should be. Harry Potter would have been dead in the first book if it hadn't been for her."

"I think Ron gets some credit, too, don't you think?" Emily asked, laughing.

"If you insist," Paige said, relenting.

"You just think Emma Watson is hot," Emily argued innocently and then, once she realized what she said, felt bad she'd let that slip. She really didn't mean anything by it.

But Paige didn't flinch. "She is," she admitted easily. "I mean, if my choices are between Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint and Emma Watson, then it's really no contest."

Emily laughed again. "I guess you have a point."

They quieted again, paying attention to the film, marveling at how Hermione always managed to be one step ahead of her best friends. Well, Emily wasn't really watching. She was still thinking about what Paige said about Emma Watson. Eventually, Emily asked, "Do you ever think other girls are hot? Besides Emma Watson, I mean?" She didn't know why she asked, exactly, but she was curious. Admitting someone was hot—boy or girl—was something Paige never really did.

Paige tensed up next to her. "I think lots of girls are hot," she said after a moment. "But there are plenty of guys that are hot, too."

Emily didn't quite know what to do with that information. Paige answered the question but evaded it just as quickly.

"Is there something you want to say to me?" Paige asked when Emily failed to continue the conversation.

"Hmm?" Emily hummed distractedly.

"I just... I don't know what you're implying," Paige said vulnerably.

When Emily looked at her, Paige's eyebrows were furrowed together and she could see her chest rising and falling. Emily supposed there was no going back now.

"I'm just curious if you've ever wondered if you might really be gay." She said it. She'd actually said it. Her heart was beating rapidly; she knew she crossed a line.

"How could you even ask me that, Emily?" Paige asked, her eyes unable to mask the hurt Emily just caused. "You of all people! You know what I go through on a near-daily basis. Why are you asking me this? Why?"

Emily didn't have an answer for her—not one she was willing to say out loud. She just needed to know, even if she was being cruel.

"It's just, you've never had a boyfriend—"

"I've also never had a girlfriend," she argued. "What does not having a boyfriend prove?"

Paige was starting to get angry, but she kept her voice down since her parents were downstairs.

"You're right. It doesn't prove anything," Emily said. "But, I mean, you never even talk about guys—"

"Do I talk about girls that way?"

"No, you don't—"

"Then why are you bringing this up?"

"Because," Emily said, not knowing what she was going to say, not when Paige was looking at her like Emily just committed the biggest betrayal. "Because," she tried again, her eyes moving slowly to Paige's lips and then quickly back up to her eyes.

The anger that had enveloped Paige was now replaced by confusion as she continued to stare at Emily. And Emily, as if powered by something outside of herself, started to lean closer to Paige, licking her lips when she was just a couple of inches from Paige's mouth. She looked back into those deep brown eyes, the eyes that she saw every night before she went to sleep, and said, "I just need to know," before she closed the distance between her and Paige and kissed her like it was the only thing she was meant to do.

It took a moment for Paige to react to what Emily had done, but when it finally did click, she pushed back a little bit and tangled her right hand in Emily's hair as she opened her mouth to try and deepen the kiss, which Emily obliged by slipping her tongue into her mouth and pressing Paige back against the headboard, smiling when Paige gasped mid kiss when Emily's tongue found hers. They continued kissing for what felt like the longest time, neither in any hurry to break whatever spell had befallen. Emily placed one hand on Paige's arm and the other against her left cheek in an attempt to feel more of her. And she kept kissing her, even when Paige pulled her closer so that Emily's weight was mostly supported by Paige's body. It wasn't until she heard Paige moan and depend the kiss further that Emily finally pulled away, panicked and panting.

"Shit," she said unable to look at Paige. "I'm sorry," she added, removing her hand from Paige's shoulder and quickly getting off the bed.

"Emily," Paige said softly.

"I have to go," she said, looking for her keys.

"Emily, you don't have to go," Paige said, getting to her feet. "It's okay."

Emily ignored her and pulled her jacket on, desperate to flee.

"Please don't go," her friend pleaded. She could hear in her voice that Paige was going to cry.

Emily finally worked up enough courage to look at Paige and saw the tears that had started to fall. "I'm sorry," she said again and she left the room and escaping through the front door.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: First, I want to thank anyone who's read, followed, favourited, reblogged chapter links on Tumblr and reviewed my story-especially those of you who reviewed or sent me PMs (and especially to ponderhouse for reviewing every chapter-if you haven't read Flux, you really need to fix that right now). I've never written something like this and didn't know if anyone would even read it, let alone comment, so I've been blown away. But it's been a pleasure to write for Paige and Emily. **

**Secondly, I've received a lot of questions as to whether I'm writing anything else. The only answer I can give is that I hope I do. I just need the right idea. And time to write, of course. But it may be a while yet. Just know that Paige McCullers is embedded into my soul and I'm not ready to let her go just yet, despite the fact that the PLL writers, JD excepted perhaps, don't seem to want her around right now (and don't get me started about how they handled her "needing space" last night).**

**Thanks again for reading. I hope you enjoy this final installment. **

Emily had only two choices: make a lame excuse and leave, like she had done almost exactly three years ago, or boldly walk back to the couch and take up the space Tessa vacated right next to Paige. She knew what she wanted to do, and she knew what she had to do; now she just needed to figure out how to do it. Instead, she picked a third option and excused herself to the bathroom, which was, she knew, a cowardly move, but she really did have to pee and she wouldn't be able to follow through with her next move without relieving her bladder first. But to leave Paige with a little hint of her intentions, she dragged her fingers across Paige's shoulders as she walked by and turned to her, mouthing, "I'll be right back," and finishing it with a wink. Paige rewarded the gesture with a half-smile of her own.

She really did have to pee, but as soon as she closed the door she called Sam.

"Why are you calling me?" Sam asked instead of offering the traditionally accepted "hello." "You never call me."

"I kissed her, Sam," she said, ignoring all phone protocols herself.

"Paige? You kissed Paige?" Sam asked, her voice having lost its neutral tone.

"Of course I mean Paige," Emily hissed into the phone, trying to keep her voice down. "Who else would I have kissed?"

"Are you peeing?" Sam asked, disgusted.

"I needed a moment to figure out my next step, and I really had to pee," she said in her defense.

"Okay, I'm willing to overlook how gross it is that you're talking to me while you're peeing, but I'm not going to forget it happened."

"Sam, concentrate!" Emily implored. "I kissed Paige, and now I'm kind of freaking out."

Sam sighed. "Why are you freaking out?"

"Are you even listening to me?" Emily asked.

"Yeah, you kissed Paige. It was sort of inevitable, don't you think? She's hot and available and you two were best friends with a history."

"I didn't… I didn't know Paige was gay until a few weeks ago," Emily admitted quietly. "Not for sure."

"But you said in high school—"

"Yeah, I know. But Paige was never out in high school," Emily explained.

"But you guys... You said something happened back then."

"Sam," Emily said. "I tried to bait her into telling me she was gay because, God, Sam, I had the biggest crush on her. Back then, I mean. And when she didn't confirm it, I kissed her and she kissed me back. And it was the easily the most amazing moment of my life, even now. But I freaked out and I left, and she was tearing up and begging me to stay, and I left. And I ignored her calls and dodged her at school and, unless it was absolutely necessary for swimming, I didn't speak to her again until after her accident. And I've regretted it every day since."

Emily let out an audible breath when she finished. It was the first time she had ever spoken about that moment. Even when people at school wondered what happened between the two girls, Emily evaded answering. And she knew that what happened in Paige's bedroom their senior year of high school was the single reason she hadn't maintained a relationship since she finally admitted to herself that she liked girls—that she liked girls in the way she knew she wasn't supposed to like girls and did anyway. It felt good to get it out.

"Fuck," Sam said, exhaling. "And you just kissed her again?" she asked, abandoning her usual snarky tone.

"I wasn't planning on it. It just sort of happened," Emily said in her defense. "Her ex showed up, and Spencer wanted her gone, and it looked like Paige did too, so I just kissed her, acting like I had the right to."

She heard Sam laugh. "You're a fucking mess, Fields."

Emily laughed, but it wasn't really more than a sigh. "What am I going to do, Sam? She's sitting in the other room waiting for me to return from the world's longest bathroom break, and I can't get this wrong."

"Then don't," Sam said simply. "You know what you have to do."

"Yeah," she breathed. "I do."

"In that case, good luck, have fun, be safe, and I'll see you tomorrow some time," she said, hanging up before Emily could respond to what Sam just implied or say goodbye.

Emily washed her hands and opened the door, still unsure of her exact plan but knowing she had couldn't stall any longer. But when she opened the door, she saw Spencer waiting for her, and before she could say anything, Spencer had grabbed her arm and pulled her inside Paige's room.

"Spencer, what the fuck!"

"I wanted to show you something," the other girl said, walking towards the bed.

"You didn't have to physically drag me," Emily reasoned. "I would have followed if you'd asked."

Spencer ignored her, opting instead to open a drawer of the small nightstand beside Paige's bed.

"Should you be doing that?" Emily asked. This wasn't Spencer's room after all.

"Probably not, but I need to show you something," Spencer answered, pulling a picture frame from the drawer. "Besides, this isn't usually in the drawer," she said, handing the frame to Emily, who looked at the photograph inside. "It's usually on the shelf," she explained, pointing to the wall behind Emily's head, which contained a tall, but narrow, bookcase.

It was a picture of Emily and Paige in matching navy-blue Rosewood hoodies, taken just after state championships their junior year when their relay team, the one Emily led off and Paige anchored, broke the state record for the second time in two years. Emily remembered Paige's dad asking for them to smile for the camera. She also remembered that he had to take the photo three or four times because they weren't cooperating in looking at the camera and saying "cheese." The photo in the frame wasn't the one that finally satisfied Mr. McCullers. This was one in which neither Paige nor Emily were looking directly at the camera. Emily's head was slightly cocked to the side, smiling up at Paige and she was clutching at the medal that hung from her neck. In the picture Paige's left arm is wrapped around Emily's shoulders in anticipation of their picture pose, but her right hand is also holding onto Emily's medal, their hands touching slightly, while Paige smiled, looking into Emily's eyes. It was an odd photo to have framed, but Emily understood why she'd chosen it. With everything else going on around them—parents congratulating or consoling their competing children, coaches giving out instructions for trips home or post-meet obligations, swimmers gathering their belongings—nothing mattered to Emily or Paige besides Emily and Paige. It was a moment uncorrupted by anything else.

"Why are you showing me this?" Emily finally asked.

"I wanted you to know that she's had this photo on display since our freshman year. Well, at least until you came over that first day," Spencer explained, without actually explaining anything. It must have been obvious to Spencer that Emily still didn't understand, so she continued. "Whatever happened in high school between you two—the good, the bad? She holds onto this version of you and keeps it close."

Emily looked from the photo to Spencer and then back to the photo again. "What are you trying to tell me?" Emily asked, still confused.

"I'm going to head out and go to Toby's for the night," Spencer said. "I like you, Emily, despite the fact that you swim for Cal." Emily rolled her eyes but smiled at Spencer just the same. She knew her teasing was all in good fun. "I think you two would be really good together. But I also need you to know that if you hurt her again," she said menacingly, "I will end you."

Emily looked up to Spencer to see if she was joking in some way, all the while knowing she wasn't. And nothing in Spencer's eyes contradicted her words as they stared silently at each other. Finally Emily nodded in understanding.

"Okay," Spencer said, exhaling loudly as if to lighten the mood a bit now that her best friend duties had been performed. "I've got a boyfriend I want to see, so I'm going to go grab my stuff." She took the photo from Emily and placed it back in the drawer before turning to exit the room. "You're free to use my bed tonight, but I really hope you don't," she said with a smirk before walking down the small hall to her room.

Emily finally released a breath of her own and walked out of Paige's room towards the living room. Paige was fiddling with the remote control when Emily entered, but immediately stopped when she saw Emily.

"That took a long time. Is everything okay?" she asked cautiously.

Emily could see the fear and doubt in her eyes, but what struck her was how courageous she knew Paige was being in spite of everything that had happened in the last ten minutes. Emily smiled recalling that Paige really was a Gryffindor. She was still, after all these years, the bravest person she knew.

"Yeah, sorry about that," Emily replied, taking the seat closest to Paige, the one Tessa sat in minutes before, as Spencer slipped past them after saying a quick goodbye. Emily smiled at Paige and then bowed her head as she tucked a stand on her hair behind her ear.

"It's okay," Paige said, her mouth turning on one side into a half-smile. "I thought you'd gotten lost or had a toilet malfunction or something." She was teasing Emily, which Emily supposed was a good sign.

"Tessa seemed nice," Emily ventured. "It's too bad she had to leave so soon. I was looking forward to meeting her."

Paige giggled. "Yeah, she said she forgot she had to meet a friend somewhere or something," she said. "I don't think she liked you very much though."

Paige was smirking at Emily with one eyebrow raised, which made Emily chuckle and say, "No? Did she say anything about me?"

"Her exact words were: 'Who the hell is that skank?' She didn't say it in a nice way," she said, giggling even louder at her own joke, which, in turn, made Emily laugh too.

"And what did you tell her?" Emily asked, dying to know how Paige explained what had happened.

Paige's smile faltered for a moment. She dropped her head and took a breath before saying, "I told her you were my high school girlfriend and that we'd sort of started dating again after the accident."

Emily stared at those brown eyes she loved so much. She still didn't know what to say, and she knew she only had this one chance to get it right.

"You know, I sort of really love her," Emily began, not commenting on what Paige just told her.

"Tessa?" Paige asked, confused.

"Yeah," Emily affirmed. "First, she dumps you the day your mom calls me and begs me to go see you, a favour she didn't need to ask once the words 'Paige has been in an accident' came out of her mouth, and then I find her dangling all over you tonight, and, I don't know, I was so jealous of her—that she felt she had the right to be that close to you or the fact that she ever had that right in the first place." She forced herself to look at Paige, who was hanging on every one of Emily's words. "And even though Spencer begged me to find a way to get rid of her, I don't know. When I saw her and saw how excited you were to see me, I forgot about everything, including Spencer's request, and I just had to kiss you. I had to claim you," she admitted as she heard the slightest gasp from Paige's mouth. "And I know I had no right to do that, but I'm not sorry I did. I've wanted to kiss you since I first saw you weeks ago."

Paige didn't say anything. She wasn't looking at Emily anymore, but she wasn't looking away either. She just sat there, eyes watering. Emily could see how hard she breathed, trying for what, Emily didn't know.

But before Paige had a chance to respond to anything she'd just heard, Emily raised the ante. "If I'm being completely honest, I want to kiss you again." This got Paige's attention, her eyes now boring into Emily's. "I want to kiss you like I kissed you in your room three years ago," she continued as Paige looked away and wiped a stray tear from her cheek. "Only this time, I'd skip that part where I made the biggest mistake of my life by freaking out and bailing on you."

She saw Paige swallow and release another audible breath before turning and fixing her gaze upon Emily again. A couple of tears fell freely down her cheek and Emily noticed a ghost of a smile on her face, despite the tears that continued to fall. Finally, after what seemed to Emily like an agonizing amount of time, Paige asked, "What's stopping you?"

It was a good question, and it caught Emily completely off guard. But she recovered quickly, turning her body to the left to face Paige fully. She brought her right hand to Paige's cheek, wiping a tear away with her thumb. She just stared at the girl before her, not quite believing that what was happening was real and not one of the many fantasies she'd been concocting in her head since she was fourteen. She also saw all the fear and uncertainty in Paige's eyes—the same eyes that were also begging Emily to kiss her again, to kiss her like she on her childhood bed.

Emily leaned in closer to Paige's face, careful not to cause pain to her already damaged collarbone and leg, keeping her eyes on Paige's the entire time. When she was still a couple of inches from her waiting lips she said, quietly, "I think I've been in love with you since I was fourteen years old, and—"

She wasn't able to finish her thought because Paige closed the distance and kissed her first, and Emily obliged and kissed her back. It heated up quickly and in the position Emily was in, perpendicular to Paige, she couldn't get the angle she really wanted, so without thinking too much about it, she pulled away from the kiss. Noticing the slightest bit of panic in Paige's eyes, Emily leaned back in for a quick peck before pulling away again to bring her right leg over Paige's lap, so that she was straddling her. It was the only way she could think that would give her better access and not trigger any unnecessary pain for Paige, whose left arm was still trapped in a sling and leg still protected in a cast. The panic in Paige's eyes had now been erased with the unmistakable sign of arousal. Grabbing her face on both sides again, Emily leaned forward and kissed her again, slow and gentle and languid. She didn't want to rush this. She opened her mouth, and Paige followed her lead, opening hers too. When the tips of their tongues met again, she wasn't sure which one of moaned or if they'd somehow reacted in tandem. All she knew was that she was kissing Paige, and it felt right. She tried leaning in closer, trying to get more of her, if possible, since Paige's left forearm blocked her from pressing her body against hers. Paige helped as much as she could by sitting up from where she had been leaning against the sofa, making her taller, easier for Emily to reach her mouth while also allowing Emily to wrap her legs around her waist. Paige brought her right arm around Emily's back to steady her as they continued kissing. Emily savoured it all. She kissed her like she'd wanted to throughout high school. She kissed her like she should have kept kissing her that fateful night in Paige's bedroom. She kissed her like she knew she'd never kissed anyone before and would never be able to kiss anyone again. She kissed her like it was the only thing she ever wanted to do again. When they finally broke apart, breathless, neither girl said anything. They just stared at each other, taking in the reality that they were finally getting everything right.

Emily broke their mutual gaze first to push a stray strand of hair that had fallen out of Paige's ponytail behind her ear.

"We should probably stop," Emily said, leaning forward a few inches to give Paige another tiny kiss on her lips, "because if we don't, I'm not going to be able to, and you're in no condition to do anything else," she finished, laughing when Paige huffed in frustration.

"As it is," Emily continued, "your left arm keeps rubbing and bumping against my chest, and it feels way too good."

Paige looked down to her sling and smiled, before she looked back to Emily and wiggled her eyebrows, making Emily laugh. Emily couldn't help herself from going back in for another kiss, intending it to be quick but unsurprised when it rapidly escalated into something more.

When they pulled apart again, Paige was smirking at Emily. "I thought we were supposed to be stopping," she said, obviously proud of herself.

"We are," Emily agreed. "But when you're kissing the hottest girl you've ever known, the girl you've been in love with forever, the girl who you thought you'd never even speak to again, you'd know how much I don't want to stop right now."

"Emily," Paige said, stroking the side of Emily's ribcage over her shirt. "I've been in love with you from the moment you stood up to Alison for me that first week of high school, and I haven't stopped being in love with you since. So believe me when I say I understand."

"Really?" Emily asked, unable to really believe what Paige just revealed.

"Yes, really," Paige said with the smallest laugh. "Why do you find that hard to believe? Have you ever looked at yourself in the mirror?" she asked only half-joking.

"I love you, Paige," Emily said seriously, giving Paige a short but lingering kiss.

Paige smiled. "I love you, too."

Finally and reluctantly, Emily moved off of Paige and returned to the seat just next to her, where she had been sitting before straddling her. She grabbed Paige's right hand and laced their fingers together. "If I recall," she said, "we never finished the seventh Harry Potter film."

Paige laughed. "You know, I think you're right."

Later that night as they lay together in Paige's bed, unable to actually do anything with Paige's injuries but enjoying the closeness just the same, Emily idly ran her fingers through Paige's hair as Paige fought to keep her eyes open.

"I am sorry, you know," Emily said quietly, even if they were the only ones in the apartment, referring, of course, to fleeing after the kiss and for shunning her the rest of their last year of high school.

"I know you are," Paige said quietly, opening her eyes for a brief moment to look at Emily. "But you're going to have to stop apologizing. You're here now—in my bed, in fact—and it's everything I've wanted."

"Everything?" Emily asked, raising an eyebrow.

Paige chuckled. "Okay, maybe not everything, but I'm sure I'll get that eventually, too," she said, pulling Emily down for another kiss that left them both breathless again.

It took another month, but Paige finally did get that everything she and Emily had discussed. Swim practice had officially begun at the beginning of November, which gave Emily fewer opportunities to spend in Palo Alto, especially now that Paige's bones had healed and she was cleared to begin working out again. But once Paige called her to tell her the doctor removed the cast from her leg, Emily drove to Palo Alto at her first opportunity.

They lay in Paige's bed again—fully naked this time—and Emily was trying to catch her breath as Paige settled her head on Emily's chest.

"Holy shit," Emily said, not for the first time in the last thirty seconds. She could feel Paige's smile as she stroked her arm with her fingernails, causing Emily to shiver. "That was so much better than all those nights I spent alone imagining what it might be like with you."

Paige raised her head up and looked at Emily, her brow furrowed together. "This wasn't your first time, was it?"

"What?" Emily asked, laughing. "Of course not. But, it may as well have been because it's never felt like that before."

"Naturally," Paige replied cockily.

Emily swatted her on the back.

"It was pretty great for me too," Paige said.

"Only 'pretty great'?" Emily asked. She wasn't mad, but she hoped Paige was simply being coy.

"Emily," Paige said, having moved up Emily's body, so that their mouths were only a few inches apart. "I've never felt like this with anyone, and I hope that I won't share this with anyone but you again," she said before kissing Emily and getting them started again.

The following morning, as Emily sat on a stool by the counter, sipping a cup of coffee while watching Paige make her an egg-white omelet, but before Spencer emerged from her bedroom to get after them for keeping her awake all night, she asked her girlfriend a question that had been on her mind since she found she found out about Tessa. "So, how do your parents deal with the fact that their only child is a giant homo?"

Paige looked at her over her shoulder and laughed. "They're actually okay with it. My mom keeps congratulating herself on getting us together, actually."

"Really?" Emily asked. She could understand Mrs. McCullers being accepting, but she'd sat in church while her dad preached against the evils of sexual immorality, which, for him, homosexuality was a major offence—maybe the only unforgivable one at that.

"Really," Paige said, tending to the toast that had just popped up.

"Your dad too?"

"Yeah, but it took him a while," she admitted. "He didn't talk to me for an entire year after he found out, but when my first season at Stanford started, he said he was sorry and that he loved me and that he wanted to continue being a part of my life. He said he spent a lot of time in prayer and doing research, but ultimately he just couldn't stand the chance of losing me."

"Wow," Emily said, exhaling loudly.

"I know."

"But wait," Emily said, recalling something Paige said. "You said he didn't talk to your for a year."

"He didn't."

"But you said he started talking to you during your freshman season," Emily repeated.

Paige turned to look at Emily, confused.

"But, if that's the case, that means you came out to them in high school," Emily deduced.

Emily could see that something finally registered with Paige.

"Yeah," Paige said, grabbing the back of her neck. "When you left my house that night, my mom came up to my room to see if something was wrong," she explained uncomfortably. "And when she found me, I was sobbing uncontrollably on my bed and she wanted to know what happened to make me so upset, so I sort of told her everything. And neither of us knew that when I was telling her my dad was standing in the door frame and heard it all.

"She was great about it—right away. But my dad looked so angry. And just as he was about to say something, my mom turned to him and said, 'Don't you dare say anything to her that none of us will ever be able to forget,' so he just turned and walked away."

Emily was truly in awe of the girl before her. "You really are such a Gryffindor," she said, smiling at her girlfriend. "I'm so lucky to have you."

"I think we're both lucky," Paige said, setting the omelet and toast in front of Emily.

And they were.


End file.
